


Never To Me

by Kay_kat



Series: Never To Me [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, But it’s not abandoned as of Sept 2019, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gun Violence, Heartbreak, Hospitals, Hurt Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, Light Angst, Post Reveal, References to Drug Use, Romance, Slow Burn, There's heartbreak y'all, casefic, cliffhanger ending, depictions of violence, post 3x24, seriously there's heartbreak, there will be angst, writer is lazy/ busy and hasn’t had time to finish the next part of the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-11-08 03:31:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 63,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17973653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kay_kat/pseuds/Kay_kat
Summary: Chloe deals with finding out the truth about Lucifer. He's the Devil. So, why, after her life finally starts to feel normal again, does she miss him with everything she has? She finds herself replaying that night in her mind, over and over. The night before she’d found out. On the balcony, a sea of twinkling lights piercing the darkness around them. The way he looked at her when he told her.“Chloe. I am the Devil.”The sorrow in his voice. It pains her even now. The words she said to him echo in her mind.“No, you’re not. Not to me.”And it’s true isn’t it? He isn’t the Devil to her. He’s Lucifer, her partner and her best friend. And she thinks, as confusing as it may be, he might be the man she loves.[PART 1/2]





	1. Ever Fallen In Love

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to FandomOverload for your feedback on this and thanks to NotOneLine for helping me with a title! :)
> 
> Chapter title credit: there are so any covers of this song but my personal favourite is Pete Yorn. The Fine Young Cannibals version is pretty good too. I don't even know who originally sung it.
> 
> *disclaimer* please take the angst tags seriously. There is a lot of fluff but there is also going to be angst. If you can’t deal with this but want the fluff you can happily read chapters 1-6 safely. Past that there is a lot of heartbreak and angst so if you can’t deal with that then just don’t read it.

_Prologue_

 

It’s been three weeks since her life had been turned upside down.

Three weeks since she’d learned the truth.

Preliminary investigations had ruled the death of one Marcus Pierce as self-defence. After hours of interviews, sitting on an unfamiliar side of the interrogation room with FBI agents asking questions she couldn’t answer, she’d been let go. Suspended with pay. Indefinitely. Well, at least until the investigation was closed fully. God knows how long that would take. They were trying to figure out an impossible truth, a truth that only she and Lucifer knew, after all.

She’d caught a glimpse of Lucifer in the precinct parking lot. A part of her screamed for her to stay away, another was hurt that he had been about to leave without saying anything.

He was running.

After everything that had happened, she’d expected as much. That’s what he does. Runs when things get too difficult. The image of an empty penthouse and white sheets flashed in her mind.

She wasn’t about to allow him to do that to her again. Not after everything they’d been through. He’s her partner, Devil or not.

So, she’d caught up to him, putting her hand on the Corvette door, blocking his escape. Made him promise to stay in L.A. Told him she needed time. He’d seemed reluctant to agree but it seems that his inability to say no to her was still there and he’d caved. He had left without another word.

 

The first week had been… tough. To say the least. Having one’s eyes opened to the truth of the universe made everything else seem so insignificant. Everything that used to be important just seemed so mundane, so trivial now that she knew that it was all for naught. That this life was only a test to see if her, very real, eternal soul belonged in paradise for the rest of time or if she deserved damnation. Or something like that. She was guessing really.

It was a good job Dan had taken Trixie because, as things were, she struggled to even muster the energy or the will to look after herself. For a few days she desperately tried to comprehend the world around her. Tried to think of the reason for it all. It quickly got too much, and she resorted to trying to take her mind off it. Whatever she did though, her mind always wandered back to the same question: What is the point of it all?

Eventually she found herself laying in front of the tv, an afghan pulled over her, an open bottle of wine sat on the coffee table, aimlessly watching whatever happened to come on next. It was when _Friends_ , an episode from a late season, came on that something finally shook loose in her brain. She’d always watched it when she was sick at home. It had never failed to cheer her up. She watched re-runs for hours and as the characters laughed and cried and _loved_ a realisation began to dawn on her. Nothing had changed. She still had Trixie, her everything. She was still a _good_ person who tried hard to make this city a better place. Beyond that did anything else really matter? She hadn’t believed in Heaven, Hell and all that biblical stuff before, why should she live her life any differently now?

After that she began to pick up the shattered pieces that had somehow become her life and everything started to feel better. Trixie was back at home and they spent time together, watched movies, played games. Things were good. That is until the piece of her life that was still missing became too hard, too painful to ignore any longer. Her partner, her _best friend._ Lucifer. She thought about going to see him. Somewhere inside she missed him deeply. They’d just been getting somewhere with their relationship and now…. How could she carry on like nothing had changed? True her life hadn’t changed but, he’s the Devil. _The Devil._ Had he been deceiving her this whole time, or had she come to know the real him? He certainly hadn’t tried to hide anything from her that much was clear.

So, she started in the only logical place she could think of: research. Religious texts, the internet, books, tv, anything that could give her a glimpse of the truth. She’d done the same when they’d first started working together. When she’d suspected there had been something… _off_ about him. She still has the footage of Lucifer throwing the agent through the window. Still remembers the reflection of red eyes in the warehouse. How could she have been so blind?

She spent days researching.

From all of it she learnt one thing.

They were all so very, very, wrong.

Nothing described her Lucifer. The man she had come to know to be astoundingly thoughtful at the most inexplicable moments. Who she could always rely on when she needed him. Who respected her choices even if he didn’t agree with them. A name came to the forefront of her mind. _Marcus._ It had all been a horrible mistake. A stupid attempt to try and prove something to herself. And it could’ve been so easily avoided if only she’d listened to him. To Lucifer. The only person in her life that has _never_ lied to her. In retrospect she can see that that is undoubtedly true.

Thinking back over all the moments they’d shared over the past few years almost brought her to tears.

He is the man who asked her to the prom, who stole her daughter’s sandwich, who carried her out of a burning building, who told her that her father would be proud of her and who saved her and her daughter from Malcolm.

He is a man who tries with every inch of his being to _be good,_ when the whole world tells him he is evil.

She finds herself replaying that night in her mind, over and over. The night before she’d found out. On the balcony, a sea of twinkling lights piercing the darkness around them. The way he looked at her when he told her.

_“Chloe. I am the Devil.”_

The sorrow in his voice. It pains her even now.

The words she said to him, echo in her mind.

_“No, you’re not. Not to me.”_

And it’s true isn’t it? He isn’t the Devil to her. He’s Lucifer, her partner and her _best friend_. And she thinks, as confusing as it may be, he might be the man she loves.

 

1

 

She sits at the breakfast bar, coffee in hand, wondering what to do. Once again, her life feels almost normal. Almost. She still hasn’t heard from Lucifer. She expected nothing else though, she asked him for space so, he’s giving it to her. She’s not worried about him leaving L.A. He promised her he would stay and after all, his word is his bond as he has said so many times before.

She misses him desperately but, uncertainty grips her like a steel vice. What if she’s wrong? Or what if he doesn’t want to see her? She can’t just waltz back into his life after ghosting him for three weeks and expect to be accepted with open arms, can she?

A key turning in the lock and the sound of the door swinging open makes her jump, her thoughts abruptly falling away. Turning on her heel she comes face to face with her roommate.

“Maze!” She shouts, surprised to see her after so long. She had been mysteriously absent since everything that had happened, in her state though, Chloe hadn’t given much thought to where her friend was. “Where have you been?” Her voice tinted with concern for her friend who looks like she’s been in a bar fight and lost. Her face is bruised, and the remnants of a black eye and a bust lip linger.

The woman— _demon,_ Chloe reminds herself, hesitates in the doorway.

“Lucifer told me to give you space. I just need some things and I’ll be outta here again.” She averts her eyes from Chloe’s and strides past her keeping as much space between them as possible.

“Oh. So, he told you what happened?”

“Yup,” she replies, concise as ever.

She disappears up the stairs only to return a moment later with her duffle bag slung over her shoulder. She makes for the door, but Chloe moves to block her exit. This is her chance to get information and she isn’t going to let it slip through her fingers.

An irritated look washes across the Demon’s features, as she squares her shoulders and lifts her head confrontationally.

“Is he okay?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, Decker.” Her face contorts. “What do I look like? His therapist?” She snaps, her voice filled with snark.

Chloe swallows against the lump that has suddenly formed in her throat, acutely aware that she’s speaking to an _honest to God demon_ and a pissed off one at that. She takes an unconscious step backwards, the cold of the granite worktop seeps through her shirt as she pushes herself against it.

Maze’s face softens. “I… I didn’t mean to scare you,” and after a long pause she adds a hesitant, “sorry.”

She feels herself relax. Maze is her friend. She won’t hurt her. “No. I’m sorry. I just… it’s been….” _What?_ What has it been? She swallows, the lump in her throat gradually disappearing. “Difficult. It’s been difficult processing all of this, you know? It’s just… _a lot.”_

“Have you talked to Linda?”

“Linda? How can I _possibly_ talk to her about this? Talk in metaphors like she thinks Lucifer does? I can’t have people thinking I’m delusional Maze, I have a daughter to take care of.”

The Demon raises a scarred eyebrow at her. “You don’t know?”

“ _Know?_ Know what?” She says, shaking her head.

“Linda. She _knows_.”

“Oh.” Her mind floods with questions. Linda Knows? How many other people know or is that it? How long has she known for? How had she dealt with it?

“Talk to her, Decker.” She hesitates for a moment before adding, “it might help you.” To Chloe’s surprise, the remark from her roommate makes it sound like she genuinely cares.

“Thank you.” She nods, crossing her arms around herself and moves to the side to let her friend pass.

Maze grunts, heading straight for the door, slamming it behind her.

Chloe checks the time on her phone. 12:16. Linda will be having her lunch break soon. Maybe she should stop by. Someone else to talk to who can understand the situation fully and isn’t… _supernatural_ , would be nice.

 

~

 

She knocks tentatively at The Doctor’s door.

“Come in.” 

Chloe takes a breath and enters.

Linda looks up from her salad and greets her friend with a smile. “Chloe!”

She manages to smile back but can’t quite hide her trepidation.

The Doctor’s face suddenly creases. “Is something wrong?”

She stands in the doorway like a spare part, fidgeting with the slightly too long sleeves of her comfortable woollen jumper. “I….” She stops, thinking about how to phrase it in a way that doesn’t sound completely insane, just in case Maze had been wrong about Linda knowing. “I know,” she settles on. Vague but enough to see, by the expression that dawns her face, that Linda does indeed know exactly what she’s talking about.

Her friend stands and moves to usher her into the room, closing the door behind them. Chloe takes a seat on the couch and Linda sits down next to her.

“He showed me.”

“I know it can be quite unsettling, Chloe, but he’s the same person he was before. He hasn’t changed. But, it’s _okay_ to be _afraid.”_

Chloe stops fidgeting and looks up to meet Linda’s gaze. “I’m not afraid. I know he’s the same. I thought… thought about everything Lucifer has told me since we met. How the world perceives him as evil and I researched, books, the internet, even movies. He’s right. No one knows him like I do. I know that none of the things they say about him are true.”

Linda looks taken aback. “That’s… very _intuitive_ of you.”

“Well, I am a detective, after all. I’ve seen enough evidence to know what Lucifer really is.”

“What he really is?”

Chloe hums, smiling slightly. “He is a _truly_ good man.”

Linda smiles and nods in agreement.

“It took me a long time to realise that,” Linda continues, “when I found out I couldn’t handle it. I was _so_ afraid. It was like I lost all rational thought and was overcome by some kind of deep rooted, primal fear. Eventually Maze convinced me that he was the same person and I realised that nothing had really changed.”

Chloe nods thoughtfully. “Have you spoken to Lucifer recently?”

“No, I haven’t. We have a session scheduled for tomorrow.” She narrows her eyes. “Have _you_ spoken to him?”

She shakes her head. “Not really. Not since… I mean I told him I needed some space and I made him promise he wouldn’t run off but, apart from that, no.”

“Can I ask why? You seem to be dealing with this all very well so why have you come to me and not to him?”

“I… It’s just.” Her words trail off and she squeezes her eyes shut. She feels Linda’s hand rest on her arm reassuringly.

She isn’t sure she fully understands the reason herself. It’s all just so overwhelming, she struggles to make the admission out loud.

She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. Her heart pounds in her chest like a jackhammer causing her hands to shake slightly.

“I think… I love him,” she says, sighing and feeling lighter somehow for having finally admitted it. “And I know how _completely_ _insane_ that sounds but, I just… I can’t picture my life without him and it’s been eating at me since…. Nothing is normal anymore. God exists, Hell, Heaven. It all _exists._ And _all_ I can think about is how much I miss him.”

Linda’s face softens into a smile and she feels her squeeze her arm gently.

“Tell him that.”

The Doctor’s reassuring smile is all the support she needs to know she can do this. That she isn’t making some huge mistake. If Linda knows about his true self and still considers him her friend then why should it be any different for her?

 She feels a smile spread across her own face, the weight of her doubt towards what she feels lifting, leaving her light and confident.

“I will.” She stands, nodding vigorously. “I’m going to go tell him! Thank you, Linda.” She briefly places a hand on her friend’s shoulder before heading out the door with renewed vigour.

“You’re welcome!” She hears Linda call after her.

She is going to tell him.

The thought makes her feel invincible.

 

~

She arrives at the Lux building, deciding to check the club before the Penthouse on the off chance that Lucifer might be down there. From the top of the stairs she spots Patrick behind the bar.

“Hey Patrick,” she greets the bartender as she takes the last step into the club.

“Detective Decker!” He responds with an easy smile as he polishes a tumbler. “What can I do for you?”

“Is Lucifer around?” She tries to ask as nonchalantly as possible.

The bartender’s smile fades a little. “He’s in the Penthouse,” he replies quickly. Before Chloe can thank him, he adds more hesitantly, “but, he asked me not to let anyone up there.” His face creases with concern, it’s an odd look on him. If he’s concerned, then something must be wrong. “That was… a couple of weeks ago though. He came in here pretty upset, took a few bottles and went up. Haven’t seen him since. His car hasn’t left the lot either. Maze was up there for around ten minutes on Saturday but aside from that….”

Had he been up there alone this whole time?

“Did something happen? I mean,” Patrick continues, “I know the Boss can get a bit… uh, emotional but, it’s not like him to stop visitors for so long.”

Chloe nods. “I’m worried about him.” The pit in her stomach grows deeper with each new piece of information. “Can I go up?” She was going to go up whether he let her or not but, she likes Patrick and decides to do him the courtesy of asking.

“Well….” The bartender places the tumbler he’s polishing down and rubs the back of his neck. “I really shouldn’t—”

“I won’t tell Lucifer you let me up,” she quickly adds.

He looks conflicted for a brief moment before agreeing and she dashes off to the lift, shouting her thanks to him over her shoulder.

 

The elevator ride up to the Penthouse seems to take an eternity. The butterflies in her stomach flutter ever stronger with each passing floor. When it finally arrives at the top, the doors slide open with a quiet ding and she takes a hesitant step into the apartment.

He sits at the piano with his back to her. A lit cigarette rests in an ash tray on the piano lid, smoke lazily drifting from it, the sickly-sweet smell filling the air. Empty bottles litter the floor and bar. He doesn’t turn around and as she approaches him, she sees that one hand rests on the ivory keys and the other holds a tumbler of amber liquid.

She stops, standing a few steps away from him.

Had he not heard her come in?

“Lucifer?”

He lets out a sigh and stands gracefully, turning on his heel to face her. “Detective,” he greets flatly with a sombre expression. Lifting his glass to his lips, he drains it in one go and steps towards the bar.

Silence looms between them, a palpable tension in the air.

He places his own glass on the bar and picks out another, filling them both. Picking them both up he turns to her with an outstretched arm offering her the drink.

She shakes her head, crossing her arms around her. “No, thank you.” She’s not one for drinking during the day and he knows that, but she can see that her refusal upsets him nonetheless.

He sets both drinks back down on the bar.

“Ah.” His mouth downturns. “Not staying long are we? Come to say goodbye before you make a cut and run? You needn’t have bothered.”

His sharp words slice her soul, cutting deeper than she thought any one person’s words ever could.

Did he really think she was just going to leave him after everything they’d been through? Her brow furrows as she takes in his state.

His hair is an unruly mess of tangled black curls. His shirt is rumpled and one too many buttons are undone at the collar making it hang down at an odd angle. The backlight from the bar catches his eye causing them to glisten, revealing a glimmer of sadness within.

A thin veil of anger hopelessly covers the truth.

He looks… defeated.

“No, Lucifer. I’m not saying goodbye and I’m not running. I--”

He scoffs, cutting her off. “What then? Come to put an end to _true evil_? Hm? Well, detective, go ahead, no one is stopping you.” He makes a disgusted look, like he can taste the bitterness of his words, as he holds his hands out to the sides. His stance says what his mouth doesn’t. _Shoot me._ A perfect, twisted, shadowing of that night in the warehouse that feels so long ago.

Does he really think that’s how she feels?

“Go ahead,” he sneers, taking a step towards her.

He could be so dense at times.

“Lucifer! Will you just shut your damn mouth for one minute?!”

His face falls leaving him looking aghast.

She steps towards him as she speaks. “I _know_ you’re not evil, Lucifer. I know that everything they say about you is wrong. I know it because I know _you._ You’re a good person, I don’t care if a book or _the internet_ says you’re not. You’ve shown me that you are truly good and that is all the evidence I need.” She’s stood barely a foot away from him now. “You are my best friend, Lucifer, and I don’t want that to change.”

She looks up, meeting his, now glossy, eyes. It’s like someone has thrown a bucket of cold water over him, washing all the bitterness he had held mere moments ago away. It leaves him looking bewildered, like he can’t quite believe that what she’s saying is true.

“B-but,” he stammers, “I’m the Devil.”

She presses her lips into a smile. “Not to me.” They hold each other’s gaze for a long moment. “ _Never_ to me.”

“I….” He swallows hard.

She exhales slowly, the sound of her heartbeat thrums in her ears.

“Everything is insane and nothing makes sense anymore, except….” She pauses swallowing the lump that has formed in her throat, trying desperately to still her shaking voice. “I know how I feel and it’s crazy, but I can’t—I can’t change that. I tried for so long to deny it but, I can’t anymore. I just… I….” She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes, composing her thoughts for a second. She has to do this. She _wants_ to.

Opening her eyes once more she meets his with revitalised determination. 

“I love you, Lucifer.” She wraps her arms around his middle, pulling him close to her. She feels him relax against her after a moment. His long arms wrap around her, his hands resting on the small of her back, encompassing her in his warmth.

“I thought….” He lets out a shaky breath and she can feel his heart pounding against his chest where she rests her head. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She pulls away from him, just enough to look into his beautiful, soulful, brown eyes. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” she says, smiling.

He heaves a dry chuckle, pulling her closer to him.

“Does this mean that… things can go back? To how they were?” He whispers against her hair, his voice filled with a vulnerability she’s not heard in him before and a hint of something else. Hope.

“No.” She replies with a finality in her voice and feels him tense against her, his confusion evident and his hope crushed in an instant. “But,” she adds, “we can move forward.”

Realisation washes over him and he relaxes once more. “That’s better for everyone…” he murmurs, so quietly she wouldn’t have heard if not for their closeness.  

She squeezes her eyes shut, cherishing his closeness. Only now did she realise how much she had missed just being near him. He radiates a heat that warms her to her core, soothing her aching heart. The soft rise and fall of his chest lulls her into a sense of tranquillity. He is the Sun and she is the Earth, pulled into his orbit, and nothing can ever tear them apart.

“ _Chloe…”_ he breathes her name so softly with such reverence that her heart sings, a smile pulling at her lips. “You really are a miracle.”


	2. My Beloved Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe gets the truth from Lucifer about what happened that day and uncovers the consequences of his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title credit goes to Eels.

After that she stays with him and they talk. He tells her everything she wants to know. A couple of hours pass in a flash as she gets lost in his words.  

She checks the time on her phone. 2:45PM. She doesn’t want to leave but she has no choice.

“I have to pick Trix up from school.”

The smile fades from his face and he nods.

She rises from the sofa.

The picture on his face is as plain as day. He doesn’t want her to leave just as much as she doesn’t want to. Call it making up for lost time or whatever, but she knows that the minute those elevator doors shut that she’s going to miss him.

Making a quick decision, she extends a hand to him. “Come with me.”

Something flickers behind those dark eyes of his. Something hesitant. His gaze lingers on her outstretched hand for a moment before he looks back to her, his lips parted just slightly. It’s as if there is more to the statement than a simple dinner invitation. An affirmation.

Perhaps even a promise.

“Are you sure?” He asks, so small and uncertain that it makes her heart ache. She may have accepted him for who he is but it’s clear that he hasn’t.

“Yes.” She replies without missing a beat.

A wide smile spreads across his face once again. A smile that could set the stars alight.

He gracefully lifts himself from the sofa and takes her hand. Warmth from the contact seems to spread throughout her, seeping into every muscle.

He lets her lead him to the elevator where they stand side by side.

She can feel him staring at her.

“What?” She asks turning to look at him. His wide eyes fixed on her, filled with something she can only label as appreciation. Maybe even a hint of adoration.

“I just don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this. To deserve _you_.”

She smiles fondly. “I’ve been asking myself the same question.” It’s true, isn’t it? What had she done to deserve him? She isn’t special by any means yet for some reason he’s chosen her to care for, to _love._ She squeezes his hand as the elevator doors open on the parking lot level of Lux. “Come on.”

 

~

 

A wreck on the highway means traffic is more backed up than usual and they end up stuck, crawling at such a pace that she half expects to see a snail overtake them, towards Trixie’s school.

Chloe huffs, tapping the steering wheel, growing more impatient by the minute.

Lucifer sits in the passenger seat beside her, eerily quiet.

She glances at him, not taking her eyes off the road for too long at any one time, despite the slow-moving traffic.

“Hey, you okay?”

He hums. “Yes,” he turns to her, a warm smile gracing his beautiful face. “I am now.”

She feels a pang of guilt at the implication that his words carry. He must have been miserable all this time, thinking that she’d rejected him.

“I’m sorry,” she finds herself saying.

He looks puzzled. “Whatever for?”

“I should’ve come to talk to you earlier. I just… I don’t know why I didn’t.”

He smiles softly. “You needn’t apologise. You required space… I-I understand.”

Horns sound angrily as a guy in a white pickup tries to change lanes in a futile attempt to get further.

“You know you could just put your siren on, Detective?”

She sighs, shaking her head but can’t help the smile that creeps across her face. Same old Lucifer.

Fifteen kilometres to their exit. They were going to be here a while.

Might as well make use of the time.

“Can I ask you something?”

 He looks at her, before humming a hesitant affirmative.

She’d thought about that day a lot over the last week. How they had survived and how he had gotten her to the roof so quickly. She’d blacked out and missed something, something she had a feeling was important. “How did you protect us from being shot by Marcus’ men? There were _hundreds_ of shell casings and not a single one hit us. And how did we get to the roof?”

Teleportation had been one of her guesses at that one. Maybe _Supernatural_ had gotten something right?

For a long moment he doesn’t respond, his reluctance to answer clear. Just as she opens her mouth to tell him he doesn’t have to tell her if he’s not ready, he speaks.

“I….” He purses his lips and then lets out a conceded sigh. “I sheltered you.”

Her brow furrows. “ _Sheltered_ me?” He can’t mean with himself, can he? There must have been something else. Something he’s not telling her. “With?” She asks raising a questioning eyebrow at him.

He shifts his gaze from the window, turning to face her. The look he gives her seems… mournful. She’s about to ask again when realisation hits her like a freight train.

The feathers.

Littering the floor of the loft.

Pristine white stained with red.  

“ _Your wings…”_ She whispers breathlessly. He nods a small, watery-eyed affirmative, confirming her suspicion. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, shaking her head and trying to make sense of it all. A lump forms in her throat and a sickly feeling washes over her. _The blood._ “You… you were hurt?”

He shifts nervously in his seat, sorrow creasing his features. “I…” he takes a breath. “Yes.”

Her heart pounds like a jackhammer against her sternum. He was hurt protecting her and she’d just… _left him._ Abandoned him because it was all a little too much for her to handle. She feels disgusted with herself. She should have been there for him. Her grip on the steering wheel tightens, her knuckles turning white with the pressure.

Her eyes sting as she tries to blink back the threatening tears. “ _Lucifer…_ I am _so sorry.”_ She can’t steady the tremor that shakes her voice.

His face softens, and a watery smile graces his features. “Don’t be.”

“How? How can I not be? I should have been there for you and I wasn’t.” A single tear spills down her cheek. She sniffles, quickly wiping it away with her sleeve. “ _I should have been there…._ I-I’m sorry.”

“ _Chloe…_ ” he sighs, reaching over to wipe the tear from her cheek, the warmth from his hand gracing her skin. “ _Please._ Don’t apologise…. I would do it again in a heartbeat,” he whispers with such conviction that she has to supress the urge to lean over the centre panel and pull him into a hug.

She takes a deep breath, staring at the road straight ahead, trying to steady her breathing. _He’d been shot protecting her._ “A-are you _okay?”_

He sighs, casting her a cautious sideways glance. It’s clear he doesn’t want to tell her but after a moment, concedes. “Getting there.” He throws her a wan smile. “Bloody things take a while to heal.”

“I’m s—”

“Don’t. Please.”

She nods, mentally kicking herself.

 

For a long while they sit, silence filling the area between them, a stifling pressure, until it becomes too much, and she speaks up again, startling him.

“When we first met,” she begins as he turns to look at her, “you told me that you’d cut your wings off. That you didn’t have them anymore.”

He hums.

“So, what happened? Do they… _grow back_ or something?”

It startles her when he chuckles. “No. Wings don’t just _grow back._ I think…” he takes a breath, “they were given back.”

“By _God?”_

He looks away staring out the window into the distance. “I’m not sure. It’s… complicated.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t ask him what he means by that. She has a more pressing question in mind. “You also told me that you are immortal.” She distinctly remembers their first conversation and how she had thought he was a total nut case.

He hums, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “Also complicated.”

She frowns wondering how something such as one’s mortality could ever be considered as ‘complicated’. You either are or you aren’t, right? “How so?”

He visibly tenses. The muscles in his jaw dancing as he clenches and unclenches his teeth. “I am immortal,” and then he adds quietly with a tilt of his head, “most of the time.”

“Most of the time?” She parrots.

He, annoyingly, hums again as his way of response. She decides to push him this time, deeming his relative mortality something she ought to know about. Especially if they are going to continue working together. “ _Lucifer.”_

“I…” he looks at her with his mouth open, ready to protest or dismiss the question. She throws him a warning look and his face softens. He sighs heftily, slumping backwards in his chair. “It’s you.”

“ _Me?_ I don’t understand.”

He rubs his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. “You, Detective, are my proverbial kryptonite.”

She blinks several times. A fragment of a conversation coming to the forefront of her mind.

_“You make me vulnerable too.”_

The pieces fall into place. Shooting him in the warehouse, his shock at the blood that soaked through his jeans. “I-I make you _vulnerable_.”

“It would seem so, yes.”

“ _Why?”_

He presses his lips together and shakes his head. “My brother had a… _theory_.” He glances sideways at her. “I can’t say for certain though…” He trails off, staring distantly out the windscreen.

The conversation ceases after that. The thought of all the times he’d been hurt being her fault too overwhelming to continue. By now she’s sure she owes him her life more than once over and it’s too much. How can she ever repay that? How can she ever possibly convey to him how much that means to her? How much _he_ means to her.

Finally, they reached their exit and turn off the hectic highway, heading for Trixie’s school, the silence still lingering heavy in the air between them.

 

~

 

“LUCIFER!” The young girl screeches as she jumps into the back seat of the car, flinging her arms around the seat in an awkward attempt to hug the man despite the obstacle.

A strangled cry slips from his lips and he leans forward in his seat but fails to avoid the little hands that clutch at his jacket. He shoots a pleading look towards her and she can’t help but laugh at the sight.

She’d previously thought that he just didn’t like children or didn’t like her daughter in particular, a part of her knew he couldn’t help it, but it had upset her all the same. Now, knowing that he’s _the actual Devil,_ the whole thing actually makes sense. There can’t be any children in Hell, can there? Surely not. He just isn’t used to being around them and she can see why he might find their erratic behaviour discomforting.

“Monkey put your seatbelt on,” she says, deciding to be merciful. Trixie looks reluctant to let go but complies with her mother’s command. Lucifer relaxes and throws her a grateful look.

The little girl scrunches her face up. “Mommy said you were arguing that’s why you haven’t been around to see us. That’s alright though because Daddy says that when two people love each other they argue sometimes, and they'll make up. Did you guys make up?”

They share a knowing look, a soft smile gracing his plush lips. “Yeah, Monkey, we made up. It was just a misunderstanding, we didn’t really argue. Lucifer’s staying for dinner.”

The girl squeals with joy. “Can we watch a movie after? Pleeeeeaaaassseee?”

“Hmm. That depends, Lucifer might not be able to stay,” _or might not want to_ , she adds to herself.

She spares a glance away from the road to look at him in the passenger seat. For a moment it seems like he isn’t going to answer the unasked question.

“As long as it’s not bloody _Frozen_ again,” he finally replies, which she can’t help but laugh at.

“Don’t pretend you don’t _love it._ ”

He grumbles, folding his arms.  

~

As they climb from the car the Spawn barrels into him, wrapping her small arms around his middle, grasping him in a surprisingly strong grip.

He looks down at the child with uncertainty. Maybe if he just waits she will stop, he thinks. He stands there awkwardly for what feels like an eternity, but her hold doesn’t falter.

Enough of this. He’s the bloody Devil, he shouldn’t be held hostage by _a child._

He pats her head stiffly to try and satisfy her obvious need for affection. When she is undeterred, he tries taking a sterner approach. “That’s quite enough, Spawn.”

That only serves to prompt the little parasite to tighten her grip and shake her head against his side.

“C’mon Monkey, let Lucifer go,” Chloe says as she comes around the car with her bags from the boot.

The little girl shakes her head harder. “I don’t want to.”

Bloody hell. This is going to be more difficult than he’d anticipated. He looks to Chloe for assistance, but she just smiles back at him.

The child isn’t usually this clingy, excessively exuberant and insistent on hugging him, yes. Clingy, no.

Maybe something is wrong? He should investigate, maybe he can fix the problem and the hugging will cease as a consequence.

“Why ever not, Child?”

Her grip loosens, and she looks up at him with a sadness in those big brown eyes of hers.

“I missed you,” she says in a little voice.

A strange feeling blossoms in his chest, like someone is squeezing his heart in their fist. He looks down at her with wide eyes. Bollocks. What has she done to him. He actually… _cares_ about the Offspring’s distress.

What to do about it though?

He tentatively places his hand on the Child’s back and pats as she resumes her hold on him.

“There, there….”

He looks to Chloe who stands watching the pair with a hand over her mouth and tears glistening in her eyes. Had he upset her now as well? Bloody human emotions. He’ll never understand them all.

“You and Mommy won’t argue anymore, will you?”

“I….” What is he supposed to say? He looks desperately back to Chloe. She smiles reassuringly back at him, shaking her head. His heart does a summersault in his chest. Bloody hell. How does she make him feel so… _warm_? Just the way she looks at him makes him feel as though he’s flying higher than he ever has before. “No, Child. We aren’t arguing anymore.”

The girl releases her grip and smiles up at him. About bloody time. He sighs a breath of relief at his freedom. That is until a larger pair of arms wrap around him from the side and he realises Chloe is now hugging him.

What is happening?

He can’t understand the sudden show of affection and remains stiff in the embrace, staring down at her in confusion.

She pulls away and smiles at him. “You look adorable when you’re confused.”

He blinks at her incredulously. “The devil is not adorable!”

She hums. “I don’t believe that. Come on, Satan,” she says, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the house as the girl squeals at the pair, following excitedly.

 

~

A delicious smell greets her as she heads down the stairs after showering and changing out of her clothes, favouring a pair of comfortable slacks and an oversized sweatshirt. Perfect to relax and watch a movie in.

She sees Lucifer standing with his back to her at the cooker, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows and her “Kiss the Cook” apron tied firmly around his waist. She can see the muscles in his back dancing through the thin cotton of his tight-fitting shirt as he stirs something in a pan. She idly muses that she wouldn’t mind following the apron’s instructions.

Stopping on the steps, she looks down at herself and suddenly feels a bit self-conscious about how she’s dressed. He hasn’t noticed her standing there yet, if she could just—

Her plan to run back upstairs and change before he sees her falls apart before it fully forms as he turns around and notices her lurking there.

He blinks, looking at her with an awestruck expression.

“You look beautiful,” he declares. His tone honest and so full of genuine awe. Her heart flutters like a mad thing in her chest and she feels heat rush to her cheeks, a shy smile creeping to her face. Damn this sweet, thoughtful man who looks at her like she is a goddess. How could she have ever stayed away from him or thought that there was any truth to the horrible things they say about him? Her heart clenches as she reflects upon how awful that must be for him.

“Thank you,” she says in a small voice. “Smells good. What are you making?”

He removes the pan from the heat and turns back to her, absently rubbing his shoulder.  

“Oh, just pasta, tomatoes and chicken in pesto, a few spices thrown in. Not too many, mind. I know the spawn isn’t fond of anything too aromatic.”

She stares at him in disbelief. Is he actually being _considerate_ of her daughter’s needs? And on top of that, pasta is one of her favourites. Not overly ostentatious or complicated but flavoursome all the same. Does he know that or is it just a coincidence? She can’t recall ever sharing that information with him.

“Sounds delicious,” she says with a smile, taking the last few steps to join him in the kitchen. “Anything I can do to help?”

He opens and reaches into a drawer pulling out appropriate cutlery and hands it to her. “You can set the table.”

She complies, taking the cutlery and an armful of plates from the countertop and heads over to set the table. As she does she watches him as he turns his attention back to the cooker, he places the pan back on the heat and continues to shuffle the contents around with a spatula. With his free hand he rubs his shoulder absently. Again. Does he normally do that? It’s probably nothing, she brushes the thought off.

She finishes setting the table just as he begins to serve the meal out.

“Trixie!” She calls. “Dinner!”

Trixie rushes out of her room excitably, making a beeline for the table.

“Hey,” her mother intercepts her, “hands, you grubby Monkey!” She says playfully, directing the child to the sink.

 

They all sit at the table and tuck into the meal before them. Chloe takes a bite, savouring the medley of flavours in her mouth, making a face at Lucifer that shows her appreciation and then some. She knows it will drive him crazy.

“This is _amazing_ ,” she manages to say eventually, “thank you.”

She nudges Trixie who looks up from her plate with a wide beaming smile, suddenly remembering her manners. “Thank you, Lucifer!”

Lucifer smiles an easy, genuinely warm smile back at the pair. “You’re quite welcome.”

She catches glimpses of him while they eat, trying not to stare because she can’t help but feel elated that he’s here, eating with them like before. Of course, she knows more now but she’s glad for the normalcy and glad he’s here. Her best friend, the Devil.

They eat the rest of their dinner, chitchatting about this and that. Trixie catches Lucifer up on the latest playground drama which he seems oddly invested in, somehow knowing all the names of the other children and the social cliques. She finds it quite endearing the amount of attention he pays to her relentless chatter.

When they’ve finished, she tells Trixie to go put her pyjamas on and collects the plates up, dumping them in the sink to be washed later. Lucifer stands and moves towards the sink, intent on washing the dishes but she shoos him away.

“You cooked, I’ll clean,” she informs him.

He doesn’t argue with her.

Trixie comes back into the room, stands next to her mother and gestures for her to come closer. Chloe leans down as the girl whispers into her ear. Lucifer eyes them suspiciously as he prepares the popcorn and pours the adults a generous glass of white wine each.

The pair turn to look at him in unison. “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask him.”

His eyebrows creep towards his hairline and he regards them with a tilted gaze. “Ask me what?”

Trixie steps towards him, looking up at the taller man’s face. “Mommy promised me we would go to the beach tomorrow,” she says confidently.

“What has that got to do with me?”  He asks looking more confused.

The girl is struck with sudden shyness and turns to her mother for help.

“She wants to know,” Lucifer nods intently, “if you’ll come to the beach with us.”

He somehow manages to look more confused.

“The beach?” He parrots.

Chloe nods.

“What would I do at the beach?”

God— _or whoever_ , he can be so dense. “You’ve never spent a day at the beach before?” She asks sceptically though a voice in the back of her mind reminds her that he’s the Devil, why would he have spent a family day at the beach?

The thought saddens her.

He shrugs. “Sex on the beach isn’t really my thing, Detective. The sand gets everywhere. It’s really rather unpleasant. The Britneys can attest to that.”

“Uh, gross,” she says trying to shake that particular mental image away from her mind. “Completely not what I meant. Like, at all.”

“Well, what then?” He asks, shoving his hands into his pockets, somehow managing to look like a nervous school boy.  

She sighs, deciding it would just be better to show him. “Just come with us. Please?”

He rolls his jaw, mulling over the idea, “I suppose…” he responds finally,” as long as we’re done by four, that is. I have an appointment with Doctor Linda.”

“Sure,” she smiles. “Thank you.”

Trixie whoops and rushes over, grabbing his hand. He allows her to pull him over to the couch as she tells him all the fun things they’re going to do at the beach. Chloe grabs the popcorn under her arm and the glasses of wine and joins them, smiling at the intense look of concentration on Lucifer’s face as Trixie explains the best way to make a sand castle.

She picks up the two movies Trixie has picked out _, ‘Lilo and Stitch’_ and ‘ _Up’._ “Which one first, Monkey?”

“Stitch!” The girl squeals, snuggling into Lucifer’s side, much to his dismay.

Chloe puts the DVD into the player and takes a seat on the other side of Lucifer, sandwiching him between them.

The trio watch the movie, occasionally Trixie will comment on a scene she likes in particular or point something out to Lucifer, who seems to be engrossed in the story.

The movie finishes and they all shuffle around preparing for the next one. Trixie runs to use the bathroom and Lucifer stands, stretching and rubbing his shoulder as he goes to the kitchen to refill their wine glasses. Chloe watches him closely and notices he’s slouching a little. That’s definitely wrong. Lucifer _never_ slouches.

She wanders over to him.

“Hey,” she says, casually placing her hand on his shoulder. He winces. “That’s it. Enough of this.” She gestures wildly with her hands at his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” he replies quickly.

_Good G_ — _or whoever,_ sometimes it’s like getting blood out of a stone with him.

“ _Lucifer,”_ she says sternly, “ _please_ tell me what’s wrong. You don’t have to hide from me anymore. Maybe I can help you?”

“You can’t.”

“Tell me anyway?”

He stays silent, placing both hands flat on the counter and hunching over. The muscles in his arms tense as he rocks slightly on his heels.

“Please.”

He rubs his hand over his face, huffing. “It’s just…” he begins. If she didn’t know who she was talking to she would say he was embarrassed. Lucifer Morningstar does not get embarrassed. “My wings… ache. That’s all. It’ll stop eventually.”

“Oh,” she responds. It’s her fault he’s hurting, and she knows it. “How long will they take to heal?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “Not sure. Haven’t had my wings shot whilst being mortal before, believe it or not.”

She takes a step closer to him, placing her hand on his bicep. “I’m sor—”

“Please. Don’t.”

Right. No more apologising. A jab of guilt lances her heart as a voice in her head tells her it’s her fault again. All she wants is for him to stop hurting. “D-does it… hurt much?”

“Not really. Not anymore.” He tilts his head. He always looks like an adorable little puppy when he does that. An adorable little puppy who is actually the Devil. “It’s more like…” he rolls his jaw, looking thoughtful, “a dull ache. My shoulders feel tight.” He reaches over his back with one arm, rubbing his shoulder.

A crazy idea forms in her mind. She reaches out a hesitant hand, pausing in mid-air. “Can I touch you?”

He raises an eyebrow at her but surprisingly doesn’t make a quip about it. He hums, bobbing his head.

She places her hands on his shoulders, squaring off with him. She applies pressure, gently at first, feeling the tense coiled muscles beneath his shirt. “Is this okay?”

He hums, the tone deeper than before. She takes it as a yes.

Carefully she works his muscles easing the tension out of them with careful applications of pressure. A soft moan slips from his lips as his head lolls forward and he leans against the counter to support himself. “You want me to keep going?”

“Uh-huh,” he manages to murmur, breathlessly.

She presses slightly harder, more confident now, kneading the stress away from him and evoking noises from his mouth that cause heat to pool in her belly. Eventually he moans so loudly, throwing his head back that she can’t help but giggle. He pulls away, spinning around to look at her, his face tinted slightly red. Their eyes meet. Placing her hand on his arm she pulls him closer and stands on her tiptoes to reach his lips with hers. She has wanted to do this uninterrupted since the night before everything happened. The air seems to still as her lips brush against his. She feels his hand wrap around her waist and come to rest on the small of her back as he prepares to deepen the kiss. Before he can they are interrupted by the bounding of little feet down the stairs and a shrill cry of “next movie!” as Trixie bounces into the room.

The pair separate like the red sea parting before Moses. Chloe feels heat rush to her cheeks and hopes her eight-year-old doesn’t notice. It’s not that she minds if Trixie knows there is something going on between them but, if Trixie knew she would tell Dan and Dan would tell everyone else and it’d be a whole thing before anything even happened. That isn’t something she particularly wants to deal with right now. Not that there hadn’t been rumours about her and Lucifer before, they had just been that though, meaningless conjecture by bored colleges with no evidence. She wants this to remain drama free for as long as possible. As drama free as a… whatever _this_ is, with the Devil can be.

Trixie jumps onto the couch, bouncing happily as she beckons the adults over to join her. Chloe grabs Lucifer’s hand out of view of Trixie and gives it a firm squeeze before going to sit on the couch. Lucifer joins them taking his place in between the two girls.

_Pixar’s ‘Up’_ starts on the tv and the trio watch comfortably. At some point Chloe rests her head on Lucifer’s shoulder and feels his arm snake around her spreading warmth through her.

Around half way through the movie she feels Lucifer’s grip loosen and hears his breathing change. She carefully extracts herself from under his arm and sees that both he and Trixie are asleep, the girl snuggled into his side with her hand gripping his.

A wide smile spreads across Chloe’s face at the saccharine scene before her. She takes it in for a moment, knowing Lucifer would hate the thought of anyone seeing him like this and would probably make a quip about having a reputation to maintain. She smirks to herself, grabbing her phone, and snaps a picture.

What he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him, right?

It isn’t like she’s going to show it to anyone anyway.

She puts her phone down and gently gathers the sleeping girl up in her arms. The girl stirs a little before resting her head on her mother’s shoulder, continuing her slumber.

After placing Trixie in her bed and tucking her in she returns to the sleeping man in the living room, grabbing the blanket that hangs over the back of the couch and drapes it over him. He shifts a bit, pulling the blanket closer.

“Goodnight, Lucifer,” she says softly.

“G’night,” he mumbles groggily.

She steals a glance at him over her shoulder as she ascends the stairs.

The Devil is sleeping on her couch and she couldn’t be happier.


	3. Every Other Freckle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer, Chloe and Trixie spend the day at the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your responses to this fic, I'm so glad you're all enjoying it. Have a great weekend! <3
> 
> Title credit goes to Alt-J.

She rouses in the morning to a delicious smell wafting from downstairs and follows it, still clad in her oversized LAPD t-shirt come makeshift nightgown.

Lucifer and Trixie sit at the table, the girl talking around her omelette whilst he listens intently, nodding every so often.

“She’d like that?” Lucifer asks.

“Duh,” Trixie responds, “it’s like in the movies, the guy always—”

“Detective!” He greets her brightly, interrupting Trixie, as he notices her listening. “Good morning, there’s an omelette for you,” he gestures to the island counter where a plate sits with a still steaming omelette upon it.

She hums, throwing the pair a sleepy smile and heads over to the counter picking up the plate. She takes a bite and lets out a moan that isn’t appropriate for an omelette but, it’s just _so_ good. Lucifer’s skills in the kitchen are something she misses whenever he’s not around. She muses that waking up to them is something she could get used to.

Sitting down, she eyes the pair suspiciously. “So, who will like what?”

“Nothing!” Trixie says a little too quickly which only succeeds to deepen her suspicion. Her daughter sees it and offers an explanation, “I was just telling Lucifer about the fun we are going to have at the beach!”

Lucifer nods, humming an affirmative.

“Right,” she gives the pair a last look as they both smile back at her with Cheshire grins. They’re up to something. “Go get your stuff ready then, you Little Rascal!”

“Okay, Mommy!” The girl hops down from her chair and runs to her room.

Lucifer rises taking the empty plates over to the sink and returns with two mugs of coffee, one of which she accepts gratefully as he hands it to her.

“Thank you.” She wraps both hands around the mug, enjoying the feel of the warmth seeping into her skin. She stares down into the steaming cup. “The lieutenant called this morning by the way. They closed the investigation. He wants us back Monday, that is if you still want to…” she trails off, not able to bring herself to finish the sentence.

He frowns at her. “We’re partners, Detective.” He states it so simply with such a finality that she feels her heart flutter. She never expected it to be this easy for things to go back to how they were before.

“Good,” she smiles. “You sure you still want to come to the beach with us?”

“Of course,” he replies with unwavering resolve. “I said I would, and I am—”

“—A Devil of your word. I know,” She says with a playful smirk.

His eyes glisten as he smiles back at her.

She regards his clothing, his shirt is wrinkled from having been slept in but apart from that he looks good. Unfairly good for anyone to look having just woken up. Though she suspects he’s raided her bathroom and laid waste to her hair products as his hair is, as always, perfectly coiffed.

“So, we can stop by your place on the way, so you can change. And no, you’re not wearing a suit to the beach.”

He opens his mouth to protest.

She cuts him off before he can, “you do own swim trunks, don’t you?”

His brow furrows. She takes that as a no.

“You have a jacuzzi. What do you wear in there?”

She regrets asking as soon as the words come out of her mouth.

He perks up immediately and with a cheeky smirk quips, “nothing, if I can help it. No need for extra barriers.” He waggles his eyebrows.

_Gross._

She tries to shake the thought of Lucifer’s lewd extracurricular activities. “Guess we gotta make a stop at the store then.”

She ignores his objections and goes to get ready.

 

~

 

They stop at the outdoor store on the way to the beach.

“But, Detective, I feel ridiculous,” he moans from the other side of the changing room door.

“Seriously? You’ve never been shy about this kind of thing before.” She thinks back to the case a couple of months ago where he had gone undercover with Pierce— _Cain_ , she remembers with a shudder. He’d worn that God-awful speedo without complaint. In fact, she distinctly remembers him being far too pleased about _‘showcasing the goods’_ as he’d put it.  

An exasperated sigh comes from the other side of the door. “Fine.”

The door swings open and he emerges in a pair of black swim trunks that cut just above his knees and matching black flip flops with a red pattern. At least she’d picked out colours he likes. She could’ve been mean and picked out all pink stuff.

Her jaw drops when she sees him. She’s seen him naked before, plenty of times. He hadn’t been skinny exactly but, not muscly either. Now he’s significantly more trim than the last time she had seen him in the nude.

He preens as she gapes at him. “See something you like?”

“I…. Uh,” she shakes her head and quickly tries to amend the situation. “No! I mean it’s not that. Have you been _working out?”_

The idea of Lucifer doing voluntary exercise is laughable.

“Oh,” his expression shifts, and he looks a bit uncomfortable. It’s odd to see in someone who so frequently flaunts himself for all the world to see. Well, all of L.A. at least. Was this why he was shy? “I suppose it’s somewhat of a side effect to having one’s mortal form infused with divinity repeatedly.”

Repeatedly?

“Oh.”

“Do I really have to wear these in public?” He moans again, changing the subject. “I have a reputation to maintain!”

She rolls her eyes. “I told you, you don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to.”

He huffs a world-weary sigh. “Very well, I’ll wear the bloody things,” and with that he walks past her, his flip flops slapping audibly against his feet, towards the cash register.

 

~

 

The golden shoreline of the Santa Monica beach stretches out before them, the soft caress of waves sweep across the sand with a gentle crash before receding, repeating in an endless cycle. In the distance the Santa Monica Pier can be spotted, too far away from them to hear the symphony of rides, joyful screams and fairground music. Wispy clouds drift lazily across the pale blue sky, evaporating in the mid-morning sun.

The area of the beach they choose isn’t too busy, a few sunbathers are scattered across the shore and surfers shred the waves a bit further out to sea. Apart from that though, they have their own little private space.  

She kicks off her flip flops, feeling the soft warm sand between her toes and takes a deep breath of salty sea air, soaking in the rays of the L.A. sun. Sitting down on one of the towels, she watches as her daughter squeals happily, running off to the shoreline with her bucket and spade in hand.

“Hey, Baby! Get back here,” she shouts, holding up a bottle of sunscreen.

Lucifer stands like a spare part watching as she plasters the girl with the lotion, much to her dismay. Trixie squirms as her mother rubs the stuff into her skin.

“You’re done, you can go play now,” she tells the girl as she makes her escape, “and be careful near the water!” She calls after her.

She glances at Lucifer who is still stood in the same spot looking at the sand like it might attack him or worse.

“You too, come here,” she commands, gesturing for him to sit on the towel beside her.

He tilts his head at her, his brow furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“Come here and let me put sunscreen on you,” she repeats herself making sure to be extra clear for him.

“Absolutely _bloody_ not!” He presses a hand to his, very bare, chest, looking deeply affronted.

Always so dramatic, she thinks rolling her eyes.

“You’ll get sunburnt.”

“Detective,” he whines, “you know I created the bloody Sun?”

She blinks. Her mind stutters for a moment.

“You _created_ the sun?”

He puffs his chest out looking proud of himself and nods. “Yes, I created many stars. They don’t call me the Lightbringer for nothing, you know! One day I’ll take you somewhere that we can admire them properly….”

_Morningstar. Lightbringer._ She hadn’t found much in her research about him as an angel, but there had been mentions here and there of creation of light… It surprisingly all makes sense now.

It’s almost unbelievable to think that her best friend, Lucifer Morningstar, the oldest twelve-year-old in the world, _created the stars._ She knows now though, that all the crazy things he’d said over the course of their partnership are the truth. And if there is one thing she knows about him, it’s that he _always_ tells the truth, no matter who believes him or how crazy it makes him sound. It’s a point of pride for him.

“Detective? Are you okay?” His voice abruptly derails her train of thought.

“Yeah! I just—”

He hums. “Knowledge of the divine tends to have that kind of effect on humans. I mean you should’ve seen Linda when she found out.” He shakes his head, pursing his lips before quietly adding, “she was babbling for _weeks_.”

“Right,” she says, taking a moment to compose her thoughts. “You’ll still get sunburnt though.”

She recalls the case at Javier’s restaurant. He had sustained a burn on his arm after carrying her out of the fiery inferno and presumes if he can get burnt by fire he can be burnt by the sun. She thinks. Maybe. It’s all a little confusing. Well… _a lot_ confusing.

“I will not.”

“Fine,” she concedes, “but don’t come crying to me when you get burnt.”

“Fine,” he replies, looking proud of his small victory.

She tucks the bottle away in her bag and looks back up at him, shielding her face from the sun with her hand. He still hasn’t moved from his spot. “Are you going to sit down?”

“On the… _floor?_ ” He asks incredulously.

She nods slowly not quite believing his apprehension at touching the sand.

“Are you afraid of the sand or something?” She asks, knowing his pride will force him to sit.

“No!” He quickly moves to sit on the second towel spread across the sand. He sits stiffly upright, looking out at the sea.

She peers at him over her sunglasses. “Lucifer.” He looks at her, humming. “Relax.”

He looks back to the sea, his expression distant.

“Are you okay?”

“I….” His brow knits. “I just never expected this.”

“The beach?”

“I…” The word dies on his lips as he regards her with a soft frown. “Yes. It was only yesterday I expected I’d probably never see you again. I never imagined for a moment that this was possible.” His eyes meet hers and she catches a glimpse of the fire that burns within them. The look she only ever sees directed at her. Not just desire but more than that. A tenderness. Appreciation for her just being there perhaps.

He’d expected her to just leave. Extract herself from his life without another word. It hurts her to think that his go to is to expect outright rejection.

She’d needed space after what she’d seen but, it doesn’t stop her from feeling guilty about leaving him to stew in his despair. Learning that he’d been hurt just multiplied that feeling.

She shuffles closer to him, not knowing what to say, and rests her hand on his shoulder.

They exchange a smile in silence, and he turns to gaze into the distance again. The gentle crash of the waves and the soft cries of seagulls overhead fills the space between them.

“This is where I landed, you know, when I first came to L.A. Well, not here exactly.” Lucifer says over the beach’s sweet melody. “Maze cut my wings off right on the beach.”

Was it uncomfortable for him to be here? He’d never shown any sign of it when they had previously been at the beach. In fact, she’d found him here on multiple occasions stood, staring out into the distance.

“I’m sorry.” She sees him wince lightly at the apology but doesn’t interrupt her when she continues. “I didn’t think you minded the beach. You don’t have to stay if this is bringing back bad memories. Trixie will understand.”

He turns back to her with a soft smile and a glisten in his soulful, brown eyes.

“On the contrary, My Dear, it reminds me of you.”

She smiles, remembering the kiss they shared on the beach and the feel of his lips on hers.

It seems like a lifetime ago.

Her eyes drop to his lips a she remembers the feeling of euphoria that rushes through her veins whenever their lips meet. A sense of bliss that she can’t find anywhere else.

She leans forward, her hand sinking into the sand between the two towels and presses her lips against his, hoping to recreate the feeling.

He doesn’t respond immediately, still in shock from her forwardness. After a moment though, he all but melts into her, shifting, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, his hand resting on her back. He pulls her closer, deepening the kiss. Hungrily exploring the depths of her mouth.

Her hand snakes up his arm and along his neck, her fingers tangling in his soft curls.

She feels as though she could lose herself in this moment. In the dizzying sense of ecstasy that floods her system. She basks in the sweet harmony that their bodies sing, a symphony, a masterpiece even, filled with passion and longing and desire. Just him and her, frozen in time, in their own little bubble.

A bubble which is instantly burst by a shrill squeal.  

The pair quickly pull apart from each other to see Trixie beaming at them with a wide smile, pointing.

“Damn. We’re busted,” she says to Lucifer who looks to be in a confused daze. “Everyone is going to find out about us now.”

“Us?” he parrots. Slowly breaking through the cloud of desire which seems to have fogged his brain.

He still doesn’t understand, does he?

“Baby go play. Lucifer and I need to talk. We’ll get an ice-cream after, okay?” The girl nods and skips away, back to her half-built sand castle, singing, “ _Lucifer and Mommy sitting in a tree_.”

She turns to him. His brow is knit with confusion.

“I thought—” he starts. “I don’t—”

“You still don’t get it, Lucifer?” She takes both of his hands in hers. “ _I don’t care that you’re the Devil._ Everything I said before is still true. I _care_ about _you.”_

She gently squeezes his hands. The confusion fades from his face and he looks into her eyes so deeply that she feels like he is looking straight into her soul.

“I-I….” His voice comes out broken and hoarse. “I don’t deserve you.” He sounds pained, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m the Devil and now….” He squeezes his eyes shut and swallows hard, “I’m a killer. I broke the number one rule by murdering a mortal in cold blood. I’m as bad as the souls I tortured in Hell.”

Her heart constricts. He’d killed Pierce in self-defence, to protect himself and to protect her. He’d never had to kill anyone before. She remembers how it had felt, to kill in the line of duty the first time. The guilt, the regret. Even when she’d had no other choice. It had left a mark on her soul that she can never remove. He’d been silently suffering more than she could have ever imagined over the past few weeks. No one should have to go through that. Not even the Devil. _No._ Especially him. He doesn’t deserve any of the awful things that have happened to him— been _inflicted_ upon him by his Father.

She silently curses God as she pulls the sweet man in front of her closer, his head coming to rest on her shoulder.

“That wasn’t your fault. Pierce was trying to kill you— trying to kill _us_. You did what you had to, to protect us and I will _always_ be eternally grateful for that, but you can’t blame yourself. You can’t,” she says with conviction, cradling his head in her hands.

“I-I feel like a monster,” he whispers into her shoulder.

She tightens her hold on him. “No. You’re not a monster. A monster wouldn’t feel guilty for defending themselves. You had to do something terrible and you had no choice. It’s normal to feel like this. It makes you _human_ , not a monster.”

He remains silent, his breathing grows more rapid and she feels the hot splash of tears against her skin but says nothing.

They sit like that for a long moment until he composes himself and pulls away, looking into her eyes.

“Thank you,” he utters, his voice still sounding strained.

“Always,” she says with a soft smile. “Come on,” she tugs his hand, “let’s get ice cream.”

He nods, a shy smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

 

~

 

Chloe returns from the ice cream truck bearing three sweet treats. She hands one to Trixie and one to Lucifer. The pair immediately dig in, Lucifer pulling out his flake and consuming it in one great mouthful before preceding to devour his ice cream.

“Slow down, Mister, you’ll get—”

Before she can even finish her sentence, he is clutching his head in his free hand.

“—Brain freeze,” she finishes with a sigh.

He looks up, his face screwed up in a mixture of pain and perplexation. “ _Bloody hell!_ What did you do to my ice cream?!”

Unbelievable. Of course, he doesn’t know what brain freeze is. It’s like having two children.

 “I didn’t do anything to it. I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen.” She rolls her eyes and grumbles under her breath, “nothing new there.”

Trixie giggles at his confusion. Whilst she seems to have managed to get more ice cream on her face than in her mouth.

“What’s happening?!” He cries with pleading eyes.

“You have brain freeze, duh!” Trixie giggles.

The worry that saturates his features only deepens at that. “That doesn’t sound bloody good! How do I stop it?”

“You’ll be fine in a minute, stop worrying,” Chloe answers.

Such a child.

She can’t help but laugh though.

 

~

 

Lucifer sits on the towel beside a sunbathing Chloe unsure of what exactly he’s supposed to do with himself. Is this it? Is he meant to just sit here, roasting in the sun like a prime cut in an oven? He can hardly see the fun in that. The child certainly seems to be having fun though. He watches her as she plays contently in the sand with a bucket and spade, occasionally dashing over to the sea to retrieve a bucketful of water.

Maybe he should go see what all the fuss is about.

He lifts himself from the ground and ambles over to where the child is playing.

The soft sand beneath his bare feet feels quite nice actually. He isn’t sure what he was so apprehensive about.

The child looks up at him from her position seated in the sand as he approaches. “Hi Lucifer!”

She turns her attention back to her task, filling a bucket with sand and repeatedly patting it with the spade.

“Offspring,” he greets.

He stands, awkwardly watching her.

“Are you going to help or are you just going to stand there?” The girl asks, her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she concentrates, not taking her attention away from the bucket she is carefully overturning.

She sounds so much like Chloe sometimes.

“Help? I’m… not sure how.”

She sets the bucket upside down in the sand and moves it until she is satisfied with the position. “It’s easy,” she smiles up at him, “I can show you.”

 

~

 

She relaxes for a while, soaking in the rays and the salty scent of the ocean on the breeze, whilst Trixie and Lucifer entertain themselves building what looks like a huge sand castle. She drifts a little, letting the stress of the past few weeks float away from her, until a little voice calls, beckoning her.

“Mommy! Look at the sand castle me and Lucifer made!” The child screeches, waving her arms with excitement.

“Sand _fortress_ , Child,” he corrects.

It really does look like a fortress. The main castle is three-tier complete with a tower keep and courtyard which sports a small well. The whole thing is surrounded by a sturdy looking wall and a watch tower at each corner. They’d even dug a moat and built a draw bridge over it to the entrance.

“Wow,” she looks at Lucifer with raised eyebrows. It’s clear this is mostly his handiwork, her daughter wouldn’t have thought to add crenels, arrow slits and detailed brickwork patterns. “That’s amazing, Monkey!”

“Lucifer’s good at building sand castles! And he only just learnt how!”

The man puffs out his chest a little, looking proud of his work.

Trixie grabs her hand. “Can we go in the water now?”

“Sure Baby.”

She lets herself be led to the shoreline and looks back to see Lucifer hasn’t budged.

“Are you coming?” She asks him.

He looks apprehensive, shifting his weight from foot to foot. She sighs and jogs back across the sand, grabbing his arm and pulling him with her.

“You can swim, can’t you?”

“Of course, I can swim!” He responds, sounding offended and then muttering something she doesn’t quite hear.

She walks into the water until the waves gently splash against her knees. Lucifer still stands behind her, the water only just covering the tops of his feet. He grimaces as a slightly bigger wave slops into him, splashing his ankles.

“Come on!” Trixie shouts to them from further in the water, her snorkel goggles magnifying her eyes to a comical size on her tiny head.

Chloe wades into the water further, looking back at Lucifer who hasn’t moved and is staring down into the water with an intensity like he’s trying to will it to part with his mind.

“Lucifer?” Chloe shouts him, “are you coming or not?”

He looks up to her, rubbing his fingers together as she often notices he does when he’s nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just it’s bloody _cold!_ Why do you want to swim in _cold_ water?”

She barks out a laugh. “It is not cold! Stop being a baby and get over here!”

“Come on, Lucifer!” Trixie eggs him on.

 

Eventually the two girls manage to get him in the water up to his shoulders. He refuses to go under the water, at which point the pair splash him mercilessly. He lets out a strangled cry, hopping a few feet away from the splash radius, pouting dramatically at them.

Chloe laughs at him until she is hit with a splash of water in revenge and gasps at the unexpected chill it sends down her spine. She turns back to him, glaring playful daggers and shouts, “you’ll pay for that,” lurching towards him against the waves. He smiles widely as he attempts to dodge her attack and tumbles into the water, submerging fully under the surface.

For a long moment he doesn’t emerge. A surge of panic bolts through her and she dunks her hands under the surface blindly reaching to help him up. Then she feels long fingers wrap around her wrist like an octopuses’ tentacles. The panic within her briefly abates until she feels herself being pulled under into the currents. She gasps for air as his long arms hug her shoulders and pull her upright to see him grinning roguishly down at her, water dripping from his now matte hair. She smacks his arm. “You ass!” She shouts with a wide smile on her face.

He chuckles fondly as his footing falters in the shifting depth of the ocean and places his hands on her shoulders to right himself.

His hands are exceptionally warm, despite the clement chill of the water, and it sends a bolt of heat through her. She laughs as she thinks about how she wants him to engulf her with his long arms and share his heat. The smile on his face and the glisten in his eyes is enough to warm her heart though. To think he had been so sad just a few hours ago.

They hold each other’s gaze, his big, brown eyes shine with a swirl of reverence and desire. She inches forward, their lips hover only millimetres apart. She can almost taste the salt on his lips already. A wave crashes into them, catching them off guard, and she really can taste salt then. The pair share a laugh as they wipe the water from their faces, clearing their vision, with wet hands.

“Hey, Mommy! I see fish!” Trixie shouts to them.

“Don’t go too deep, Baby!” Chloe answers as she wades through the water to her daughter.

 

After a some fun and games in the water the two adults retreat back to the beach in favour of the warmth. Chloe lies on her back soaking in the sun whilst Lucifer sits upright watching Trixie frolicking in the shallow water.

“Detective?”

She hums, looking over her sunglasses at him.

“Can I ask you something?”

She props herself up on one elbow to face him. “Sure.”

He bobs his head and fidgets with his dark onyx ring. “I’m immortal.”

She frowns, replying flatly, “Lucifer, I know and that’s not a question.”

“I know. I mean I’m old… older than you can imagine. Your life span is a mere blink of an eye compared to mine and when you— When you die you’ll go to Heaven. A place I can never go back to. Doesn’t that bother you?”

She’s sits, stunned. She hadn’t even thought about the possibility of going somewhere when she dies, an actual honest to God, afterlife. Sure, she’d realised they must be real but the actual thought of going there. It seems too… surreal.  

“I—I don’t know….” It seems like he’s thinking so far ahead but, he’s right. He would outlive her. Forty years or so is nothing in the life of an immortal. She knows how she feels about him, but she hadn’t considered if it was fair to him. “Does it bother you?”

He looks a little shocked, he obviously isn’t used to people asking him how he feels save for maybe Doctor Linda.

His eyebrows knit as he considers his response. “I’m not sure. I-I just know I don’t want to be without you. I….” He hesitates, swallowing hard. “I can’t explain… I… don’t know how.”

She takes both his hands in hers, squeezing them softly. “Try?”

He nods, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a breath to steady himself. “You make me feel… like I can be _better._ When I’m around you I believe that I can be good. I-I can’t stand the thought of not being near you. You mean everything to me.” His eyes glisten in the sunlight as tears well there. “You’re everything that I’m not and I-I… don’t deserve you.”

She opens her mouth to tell him that he does, he deserves to have someone that cares about him. To love and cherish him. But he shakes his head, a single tear breaking free, rolling down his cheek.

“ _Please._ Let me finish. You are compassionate and caring and good, and the world is a better place because you’re in it. You deserve someone as good as you and that—” His voice cracks but he clears his throat, taking a breath and continues, “that isn’t me.”

“ _Lucifer…”_ she sighs softly. The speech is a vivid reminder of what he’d said on the beach before their first kiss. The same damage still present. He doesn’t believe in himself. Doesn’t believe that he is good. She can’t repair eons of emotional damage, she just can’t. It doesn’t stop her trying though. “Look at me.” He lifts his chin, his eyes meeting hers. “You _are_ good. You are the kindest, most thoughtful man I have ever met. You try so hard to be better but… I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

His breath hitches in his throat. “Y-you’ve seen me…. Seen what I am. I’m far from perfect, Detective,” he shakes his head, his mouth downturned and tears creeping slowly from his eyes. “I’m horrifying…. A monster. How can you say that knowing…?”

She reaches out, placing a hand on his perfectly stubbled cheek, swiping away a wayward tear. “I don’t see you like that Lucifer. What do I have to do to prove that to you?”

Her question is met with silence. The expression on his face tells her that he does know— doesn’t believe that she ever can. She takes a breath, sadness welling within her for the man in front of her who deserves to be loved so much….

“Lucifer, I meant what I said before. I love you.”

He looks at her, speechless. His lips parted slightly, his breaths coming in ragged bursts. “Y-you do?”

She smiles, softly at him, her thumb rasping soothing patterns over his cheek. “Yes. Of course, I do.”

 “I—” The sound breaks free of his lips, both distressed and surprised. “I-I think… I love you too.”

His words hit her like a tonne of bricks, almost winding her. To hear him finally admit after all this time. It’s all she ever really wanted. It was the reason why she rushed into a relationship with Pierce. She thought that she could prove to herself that she didn’t really love Lucifer, that the feelings would fade but, they never did. She needed to know that he felt for her what she felt for him and for him to stop sidestepping around it.

She pulls him forward, resting her forehead against his.

When he’s with her, she feels complete.

 

~

 

They lie intertwined on the beach for the next hour. His arm around her shoulders holding her close to his side and her arms wrapped around his middle with her head on his chest.

Lucifer stares up at the sky. His attention shifting to the woman in his embrace as she stirs, squeezing him slightly.

This is real.

He can’t quite believe it.

He hadn’t understood before. A kiss here and there had been lovely but, he hadn’t thought they’d get here.

She is his and he is hers.

They are together.

And it is real.

 A wide grin splits across his face.

He looks down at her golden locks spread across his chest.

Perhaps….

He gently strokes his hand through them. He half expects her to jump away or slap him but, it never comes. She snuggles further into his side, humming happily. A rush of pleasure surges through him. It’s odd. Not the kind of pleasure he gets from sex but… warmer. Like a light filling him up. It makes him feel kind of dizzy with joy.

It’s delightful.

He keeps looking at her, cataloguing every minute detail of the moment. He wants to remember it, cherish it.

An idea forms in his mind. He reaches over with his free hand and slips Chloe’s phone out of her beach bag. His own phone is in his jacket pocket which she had insisted he leave behind.

He switches the screen on and slides the camera icon on the lock screen. Hitting the ‘switch camera’ button, he holds the phone out in front of them and kisses the top of her head, snapping a photo at the same time.

She looks up at him. “What are you doing with my phone?” She asks in a stern voice.

He rubs the back of his neck and replies sheepishly, “I… um, wanted to remember—”

She snatches the phone out of his hand and clicks to see the picture he’d taken. A warm smile spreads across her face.

“This is cute.”

 He harrumphs, “The Devil is not _cute!”_  

“Yes, you are. Such a softy as well.”

“Am not,” he pouts.

She snaps a photo and laughs voraciously.

“Detective!” He whines, lunging forward to grab the phone from her hand. She sees it coming and moves out of his reach. His momentum carries him forward pushing them both backwards, his outstretched hands catches his weight just above her as she lands with a thud on her back.

“Did I mention childish?” She laughs.

She was insulting him but, it felt good for some reason. He couldn’t figure it out. If anyone else called him soft, he’d surely gut them. Not Chloe though. He could _never_ hurt Chloe.

He smiles down at her underneath him. He opens his mouth to make a clever quip about their current position but finds the world spins a hundred and eighty degrees before any words can come.

Dizzied, he blinks, finding himself on his back with Beatrice squealing beside him.

“Gotcha, Lucifer!”

The girl jumps happily, flinging herself at her, now upright, mother and clinging to her middle. Lucifer pushes himself to his knees, shaking the sand out of his hair.

“Smile!” Chloe says to him as she holds out the camera to take a picture of the three of them.

He sits there happily admiring the two people he loves. He never wants this day to end.

As if she heard his thoughts Chloe says, “it’s almost three, we have to go soon Monkey.”

“Aw but Mommy! Can’t we stay a little bit longer? Pleeeeeeeaaasssee!”

He wishes he could tell the child that they can but, he has an appointment with Doctor Linda, and he can’t possibly cancel now.

“Sorry, Child. I wish we could stay longer too, perhaps another time?”

The girl perks up at his words, looking between him and her mother. “We can do this again?!”

“Sure, Baby”

She flings her arms around her mother once again and starts chattering about how much fun the beach is and how she knew Lucifer would like it.

 

As they pack away their things in the trunk of the car, Chloe stops, Looking at him.

“What?” He says, peering at her over his sunglasses.

She covers her mouth with her hand, attempting to stifle a laugh.

“What?! What are you laughing at?” He asks again.

“You’re red!” Beatrice informs him.

_Red?!_ He panics. Is his true form showing again? He holds his hand up expecting to see burnt charred flesh. He doesn’t. His normal, human skin is still there but, it’s a faint shade of pink-red.

His brows furrow as he looks back to Chloe, bewildered.

“What is this?” He asks.

Chloe manages to stop laughing long enough to say, “I told you, you’d get sunburnt!”

“Bloody hell. Burnt by my own creation. Isn’t that ironic,” he sighs.

 

~

 

She pulls up outside Lux. Trixie sleeps soundly in the backseat, worn out from a day of fun in the sun.

“Thank you… for today,” Lucifer says, looking down at his flip-flop clad feet.

Chloe leans over the centre panel, placing a hand on his red shoulder. “You’re welcome. Thank you for coming, Trixie had a great time.”

He looks up at her, smiling shyly. “Perhaps we could… do it again?”

“The beach?”

“Well… eventually, yes, but I mean maybe… I could… take you out for dinner?” He twiddles his thumbs in his lap, staring down at them.

He’s asking her out. She blinks long and slow at him.

Lucifer Morningstar.

Asking her out on a date.

The Devil himself.

And he’s _nervous._

His eyes search her face, his movements growing more and more anxious with each moment that she doesn’t respond.

She decides to tease him a little.

She hums. “I don’t know. Last time you asked me to a restaurant you stood me up.”

His face drops. “I—I’m…” he stammers.

A wide smile splits across her face, “Lucifer, relax. I’m joking. Of course, I want to have dinner with you.”

He visibly relaxes, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Monday night? Dan has Trixie,” she suggests.

He nods. “Sounds lovely!” His voice cracks a little and she notices a glisten in his eyes. Suddenly, she feels bad for teasing him.

“So… I will see you at work on Monday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, My Dear!” He smiles roguishly.

“Great!”

“Right then,” he picks up his clothes in an armful and pops the door open, like he’s about to get out without saying goodbye.

“Hey,” she grabs his arm before he can leave, “aren’t you forgetting something?”

Confusion washes over him, “Not that I—”

She interrupts him by firmly planting her lips on his in a chaste kiss. He’s caught off guard and stiffens against her, blinking his confusion away before kissing her back.

They separate and he gazes into her eyes for a moment. Desire and passion burn in those dark depths, the result of a kiss stoking the long flickering embers of love within him.

“Goodbye, Lucifer,” she says with a smile as he climbs out of the car with his inhuman grace.

“Goodbye, Detective.”


	4. A Sky Full of Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer has doubts about his growing relationship with Chloe. Linda intervenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title credit goes to Coldplay.

A much-needed shower and change of clothes later he strides into the small waiting room of Doctor Linda’s office. Checking the time, he sees that he’s a few minutes early and the red “In-session” light beside the door is switched on. He takes a seat on one of the small green chairs with poise and waits patiently.

He still can’t quite believe how things had gone with the Detective. It feels like a dream and he expects to wake up at any moment, to find himself in his bed, sorely disappointed.

He expects it, but it never comes.

There’s this rush, something he’s never felt before. It’s almost indescribable. Like the tingling sensation he remembers in his stomach from his flying days, when he would tuck in his wings and free fall through the air. A warm light radiating inside him, filling him to the brim, making him feel like he might burst at any moment. It makes him stand a little taller, smile a little wider and the world seems all the brighter.

It’s exhilarating and slightly dizzying.

He feels invigorated with such energy, not raw power, but something else and he has no idea why.

Maybe something is wrong with him?

He feels so _good_ … it’s almost sickening.

So, why, then, does he have a lingering uncertainty festering deep within? A voice telling him he should stop with Chloe even though she is all he has ever wanted.

He can’t wrap his head around it.

Doctor Linda will surely be able to help him. She’s been so informative in the past, helping him to identify these dreadful human emotions.

The door to Linda’s office swings open, breaking him from his contemplations. A short fellow with ginger hair and circular glasses upon his round, freckled face steps out with Linda half a step behind him.

“We’ve made great progress today, Franklin, I’ll see you the same time next week.” The man smiles thanking The Doctor and heads out of the waiting room as Linda stands in the doorway. “Lucifer!” She says as she spots him waiting. The other man, Franklin, pauses at the name, looking back at the pair momentarily before leaving. “I wasn’t sure that you were coming.”

He shoots a lopsided smile at her. “Of course, I’ve come, My Dear Doctor! The Devil never misses an appointment.”

She nods slowly. “I just thought with Chloe and everything that happened you might be….” Her words fade away as she thinks better of discussing this in the waiting room and gestures for him to come inside.

He rises gracefully from the chair, dusting lint off his well-fitted, burgundy jacket as she ushers him inside her office. He takes his usual seat on the soft couch opposite her chair and sits straight with his legs crossed in front of him.

She takes her seat, studying him over the rims of her glasses.

“You seem in good spirits today,” she states, with a somewhat dubious note to her voice.

“I am indeed,” he beams at her and claps his hands together. “I’ve never felt better, in fact.”

“That’s great, Lucifer. After everything that happened, I feared you might be—”

“Blaming myself? Drowning in a pool of remorse and self-loathing?” He chimes in with a little chuckle.

“I was actually going to say upset but….” She shrugs as if to say whatever you want to call the thing you do when you’re spiralling out of control.

“You see, I was! And then something _extraordinary_ happened,” he says, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “The Detective— _Chloe_ , came to see me.”

Linda makes a face like she’s saying “oh” with interest, but no sound comes out.

“She saw my Devil face and it didn’t break her or turn her against me. It’s marvellous really. Perhaps it has something to do with the reason my powers don’t work on her. Or that she’s a miracle. Or maybe—”

“Have you thought that perhaps the reason she can accept you for who you really are is because she loves you, Lucifer?” She says, interrupting his musings, rather annoyingly he might add.

He opens his mouth to reply but no words form. His brow furrows. “Well, I mean, yes. She did say that, but no mortal can just _accept_ divinity, Doctor. It’s not how you were designed. Every other poor sod who’s seen my Devil face has turned into an unhinged lunatic.” He waves a hand as if to make his point clearer.

“I didn’t and _I’m_ not a miracle,” she reminds him.

He tilts his head, wondering what she’s trying to get at.

“Have you considered the fact that all the people who have seen your Devil face and have become unstable as a result haven’t known you. Not truly. Not as Chloe and I do.”

He hums.

Can a human truly accept him, the Devil for no other reason than that she… _cares_ about him?

No. It’s not possible. There must be some explanation.

He can’t just be accepted by humans, not him. Not after being vilified for millennia. It’s ingrained into them to cower in his presence, to know nothing but dread when they see his face, his true face.

He shakes his head. “It’s not possible. This has Dear Old Dad written all over it.”

“Chloe loves you, Lucifer.”

“Well, she doesn’t have a choice, does she!” He says, his voice raising ever so slightly.

“She has free will, doesn’t she?”

“She does. All humans do.”

“So, it is her choice.”

“I— I suppose it is.”

“So, Chloe loves you. So, my question to you is: do you love her?”

“Of course, I do.” He’s slightly offended that she would even question his feelings for the Detective. She is after all the one who got him to admit them to himself in the first place.

And he does love her. Completely. With every fibre of his being. It feels like she’s a part of him and without her by his side the world is so much duller.

“Well what is this all about, Lucifer? Why are you trying to find a way to sidestep a relationship?”

That’s a good question.

He’s not sure he knows the answer.

He knows he loves Chloe and he knows she loves him.

If their day at the beach had told him anything, it’s that they want to be around each other and the possibility for a real relationship is within his grasp.

_A real relationship._

He swallows hard.

He was well practised in the bedroom department, a connoisseur of all things pleasurable, but relationships? Being a boyfriend?

He doesn’t have the foggiest.

“I just…” he trails off, looking to the Doctor, desperately trying to compose words from these awful feelings. “I don’t want to lose her,” he manages to say after a long pause.

“You care deeply for Chloe, of course you don’t want to lose her but, do you think pushing her away,” _again,_ she doesn’t have to say _, “_ is the right decision?”

A faint pain resounds within him as he recalls all the heartache that he caused the first time he pushed her away. When he left her alone in the hospital and went off on a Vegas jaunt.

It had been a mistake and he knows it.

“She deserves someone better,” the words tumble out of his mouth eliciting a cascade of unwelcome memories that cause his heart to clench in his chest.

Memories of a dinner and hopeful blue eyes staring back at him from across the table, only to be disappointed.

Like he disappoints everyone eventually.

Memories of a chance squandered.

“I don’t believe that’s true, Lucifer. You are worthy.”

He’s not convinced, and Linda can see it.

Her tone growing more insistent she says, “you went to Hell for her, Lucifer! _Hell!_ ”

_Twice._

And he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“I just… I don’t….” He rubs his face. “What if I do something wrong? What if I mess it all up? I don’t want to end up like the _Douche_ , a shadow of his former bloody self, drowning his regrets in _improv!”_ He spits the word like it physically pains him to even say it out loud.

“You’re nervous. That’s normal. It’s unfamiliar territory for you and _that’s okay._ It’s okay to make mistakes!”

What if he makes an irreparable mistake? He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt Chloe and he always hurts those around him. It’s a fact he can’t escape.

He doesn’t want to hurt Chloe.

But, he doesn’t think he can live without her.

At his prolonged silence, Linda continues. “No relationship is perfect. Everybody makes mistakes, it’s how you deal with them that matters most.”

“How?” He asks quietly.

“Together. You deal with them _together_.”

He nods.

_Together._

One of the things he cherishes about working with the Detective is the equality, the partnership itself.

For eons in Hell it had been him ruling from his throne, his demons obeying. Not because they wanted to or needed to but, because they were afraid of him, of his power.

And for Eons before that he had been alone in Heaven, doing only as their Father commanded, only working with his siblings when it was asked of him.

There was never any choice about it.

But now here he is, with Chloe. He had chosen her and in turn she had chosen him.

And now they can be together in more than just a work partnership.

Together.

A wide smile spreads across his face as a new-found sense of confidence pulses through him. He jumps up from his seat clapping his hands.

“You’re right!” He dashes from the office shouting his thanks to the Good Doctor over his shoulder.

He vaguely hears a protesting cry from her but, his mind is set on only one thing now.

Planning the perfect dinner for him and his Detective.

 

~

 

Sunday drags for Chloe. The anticipation of her date with Lucifer lingering within her and churning up butterflies whenever she thinks about him. She tries to get on with the day and not think about it; things always come faster when you don’t think about them. But performing tediously dull chores gives her mind a lot of time to wander.

And it _always_ wanders back to him.

Eventually Monday morning swings around though, and she finds herself driving to work. A smile on her face that she just can’t contain.

She doesn’t think she’s ever been this happy, this early on a Monday morning in her entire life.

Throughout the drive to the precinct she taps the steering wheel, her eagerness to get there bubbling to the surface.

Finally, she’s pulling into the parking lot and she spots Lucifer, leaning against the Corvette with a lit cigarette in his hand, looking like he’s just walked out of a damn photoshoot. She pulls into the space next to his and is greeted with a cheery, “good morning, Detective!” as she slides out of her car.

“Good morning, Lucifer,” she greets him with a shy smile, stopping beside him.

He drops his cigarette butt on the ground and crushes it underfoot before turning and leaning over the side of the Corvette, retrieving a Starbucks to-go cup with her name scrawled on the side of it.

“Just how you like it,” he says, handing it to her with a smile that twinkles with his eyes.

She accepts it and tiptoes to plant a delicate kiss on his lips, “thank you,” she says softly as she pulls away.

He blinks in shock before realising himself and his face lights up with joy and a hint of pride. “You’re quite welcome!”

“Hey,” she says as the pair make their way towards the stairs, “about us—”

He stops in his tracks, the smile falling from his face.

She turns back to face him, realising what he’s thinking. It was a poor choice of wording upon reflection.

She quickly tries to amend her mistake. “Oh! It’s nothing bad, well not really. I was just going to ask if we could keep it on the down low for now. At work. I mean…” she waves her hand in the air, “it’s not against the rules per se but, it’s not exactly professional. I just don’t want to have to stop working with you.”

“Oh,” he looks a little downhearted about that. “You and Daniel worked together, and you were married. Surely that was… _frowned upon_?”

“We weren’t partners,” she replies quickly, not wanting to make a big thing out of this.

He sighs. “Very well, Detective. You have my word, I will be a _good_ Devil.”

“Thank you,” she laughs.

 

~

 

Before they even make it to Chloe’s desk in the bull pen an older man with greying hair and thick rimmed glasses steps out of the lieutenant’s office.

“You must be Detective Decker,” he greets as the pair almost stride past him.

They both stop abruptly, turning to face the shorter man.

His wrinkled face sports a neatly trimmed moustache and his eyes shine with kindness. He wears a white shirt with brown pinstripes, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and matching brown trousers, neatly pressed and held with elastic suspenders. His sensible boots and neatly done tie match the rest of his ensemble, also brown.

“That’s me,” she smiles at his jovial tone.

The man extends a hand. “I’m Lieutenant Tim Johnson, step into my office for a moment, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course,” she replies, exchanging a look with Lucifer.

“Bring your partner as well,” Johnson adds over his shoulder as he enters the office. “Take a seat,” he offers as he takes his own behind the desk.

“Detective Chloe Decker and,” he looks over the file that sits atop his desk before looking back up at Lucifer, “Civilian Consultant _Lucifer Morningstar_.” He says the name with a frown eyeing the dark-haired man. “That’s some name you got there, kid. ‘S that real?”

“Afraid so,” Lucifer answers with a grin.

“Anyway,” The lieutenant waves a dismissive arm, “I’ve heard a lot about you two, quite the track record you’ve got here.” He slaps his hands down on a pile of files on the side of his desk. “It’s unfortunate what happened with Marcus Pierce. You never really know someone do you?”

Chloe spares a sideways glance to her partner. She certainly knows him. If only she’d have listened to him, she would have known Pierce too and she would never have said yes….

“I’m aware you were close,” he continues, looking to Chloe, “I’m sorry for your loss. Are you sure you’re up to coming back to work so soon?”

Chloe hums, nodding. “Thank you for your concern but, with everything that happened, I feel it’s best just to move on. He wasn’t the person I thought he was in the end anyway. Like you said, you never really know someone.”

She isn’t sure what Johnson thinks happened or who had been privy to that information, so she decides not to add anything else, just parrot his own words back to him.

“Alrighty then!” He claps his hands together and fishes in his in tray for a file which he then passes over the desk. “A new case just came in, the Forensic Tech…” he clicks his fingers in the air repeatedly, “Ella! Still trying to learn everyone’s names,” he explains. “Ella has a report for you.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Chloe responds, standing.

Lucifer nods curtly to the old man as they leave the office.

 

The pair stop just outside the door, exchanging shocked expressions.

“That went well,” Chloe says.

“Indeed…. How on Earth do you think he got to be Lieutenant being that _nice?”_

“Maybe he’s like Columbo?”

Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “What, nauseatingly cheesy?”

She laughs. “No, kind on the outside but cunning and deductive at the same time.”

He gives her a look that says _you-actually-watched-that-crap?_

She slaps his arm. “Shut up! I used to watch it with my Dad, okay!”

He smiles back at her.

“Come on,” she laughs, “let’s go see what Ella’s got for us.”

They walk over to the lab, Lucifer strides in front of her opening the door and gesturing for her to enter. The Forensic Scientist stands at the far counter with her back to them, head bobbing to the music from her white earbuds as she switches between studying something under the microscope and jotting down notes.

“Ella,” Chloe announces their presence as Lucifer enters behind her and positions himself leaning comfortably against one of the outer countertops.

Ella spins on her heel, yanking the earbuds out with a wide beaming smile lighting her face as she regards them. She quickly rushes around the centre counter and throws her arms around Chloe, squeezing with enthusiasm like one might squeeze an almost empty ketchup bottle.

“Hey Ella,” she says hugging her friend back.

Lucifer watches with an amused look on his face as she tries to pry herself from the smaller woman’s arms after she lingers in the embrace for a little too long.

“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you since… you know….” She grimaces. “I am _so_ sorry about everything that happened.” She glances skittishly from Chloe to Lucifer who is taking a long swig from his hip flask. “I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault, if we had figured out that it was a trap sooner, things might have been… different.”

“No, you can’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault,” Chloe reassures her.

“The Detective is right, Miss Lopez. The only one to blame here is that bloody bastard _Pierce,”_ Lucifer spits his name like it’s a bad taste he doesn’t want anywhere near his mouth.

Ella slides past Chloe and flings her arms around the taller man before he can protest.

Chloe notices he winces a little as she squeezes him tighter.

The forensic scientist frowns, pulling away from him. “Dude! Have you been _working_ _out?_ ” She says, looking at him with an open smile and pumps her fist in the air. “Go Luce!”

He sighs heftily as Chloe laughs at the pair.

“Anyway, Ella, the lieutenant said that you had a report on this new case for us to look at?”

“Yes!” She exclaims, dashing to a pile of files and fishing a specific one out.

Chloe sidesteps toward Lucifer, squeezing his bicep, partly jokingly and partly because she really wants to, while the her back is turned. At the look of shock on Lucifer’s face she can’t help but burst out into a fit of laughter which she tries, and fails, to hide behind her hand.

Ella looks at them narrowing her eyes.

“Is something going on with you two?” She asks, her voice heavy with suspicion.

Chloe quickly responds. “No. Nope. Definitely nothing going on here.” She laughs nervously, realising that her denials have done nothing to convince the Scientist.

Lucifer just stands, a smile spreading across his face.

A smile slowly creeps across Ella’s face, her eyes lighting up like fireworks on the forth of July. “Oh My God! Something is totally going on between you! Way to go Decker!” She punches Chloe in the arm lightly as if sealing her approval.

How Ella has any idea that something was going on between them just from that little bit of conversation, Chloe will never know. The woman did seem to have the uncanny ability to just be able to see when two people were becoming involved. _Hell,_ she seemed to know what was going on between her and Pierce before she even knew.

The thought of _him_ makes her shudder and she quickly shakes it off.

“Right, can we please go over the report now.”

Ella hands her the folder with a cheeky smile. “It’s okay Decker, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thank you,” she says, accepting the folder.

 

~

 

As it turns out the case is open and shut, much to Chloe’s relief. Not only did she not feel like getting into a complicated case right now, she also knew that if she’d had to stay late both her and Lucifer would have been disappointed about missing their dinner arrangements.

She is feeling some apprehension at the prospect of an actual date with Lucifer. Strangely, not because he’s the _actual Devil._

If someone had told her three years ago that she would be dating the actual Devil himself she would have thought they were completely insane. Now though, it feels almost… normal. Almost.

No, it isn’t dating the Devil she is afraid of. It’s dating her best friend. What if it doesn’t work out? Would they ever be able to go back to how things had been? Or would she lose him for good?

She knows she shouldn’t think like that really, but her mind can’t stop itself from being rational. So, she stops listening to her mind and instead listens to the melodic song that her heart sings for him.

That tells her she’s making the right choice.

 

“Monkey get your things ready, your dad will be here soon,” she tells Trixie who is sat on the end of her bed, watching intently as her mother tries and discards outfit after outfit.

Chloe lets out a sigh. She knows she’s letting her nerves get the better of her but the fact that she has no idea what Lucifer has planned for them isn’t exactly helping that. She has no idea what to wear and worries that whatever she does wear won’t be fancy enough for the undoubtedly extravagant restaurant he will take them to.

Trixie frowns, knitting her little brow as she kicks her feet against the bed frame. “Why don’t you ask Lucifer what you should wear?”

Chloe worries her bottom lip between her teeth and hums thoughtfully. “I suppose I could ask him where we’re going at least….” She pulls out her phone, unlocks it and stares at the previous messages she’d exchanged with him earlier that day.

She hesitates. Should she text him? The last thing she wants to do is make a fool out of herself. But, she does hate not knowing what he’s planning. It makes her mind run wild with possibilities, because, after all, he is Lucifer. He’s not exactly known for being modest in any aspect of his life.

A text can’t hurt, she decides.

 

_Chloe [17:23]: So, where are you taking us anyway?_

 

The message status switches from “received” to “read” almost immediately. Three little dots appear, indicating that he’s typing.

             

              _Lucifer [17:23]: Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise, Detective! *Devil emoji*_

 

Of course, he isn’t just going to tell her because, things are never that easy with him, are they?

 

              _Chloe [17:24]: I hate surprises._

 

_Lucifer [17:24]: I wouldn’t plan anything you would find uncomfortable or unenjoyable. Trust me._

She sighs. She does trust him. How can she not after everything they’ve been through together? It’s just nerves, she keeps telling herself.

 

_Chloe [17:26]: How am I supposed to know what to wear if I don’t know where we are going?_

_Lucifer [17:26]: Darling, you look positively stunning in whatever you wear._

_Lucifer [17:26]: And in nothing at all, for that matter._

She rolls her eyes, hearing the smirk in his voice through the words.

 

              _Chloe [17:28]: Right. Thank you for not being helpful. At all._

_Lucifer [17:28]: You’re quite welcome._

_Chloe [17:28]: Ass._

_Lucifer [17:29]: I know. *winky face emoji*_

_Chloe [17:30]: I need to finish getting ready. See you later._

_Lucifer [17:30]: See you at 7, Love._

She throws her phone down onto the bed, smiling to herself.

“Do you know what to wear now, Mommy?” Her daughter asks as she re-enters the room with her backpack on her shoulders. She’d been so engrossed in her conversation with Lucifer, she hadn’t noticed her leave the room.

She sighs again. “I don’t know, Monkey,” she says, regarding the clothing laid out over the bed. “What do you think I should wear?”

Trixie studies the options intently. “What about this?”

She’s picked out a dark red dress with a lacey top and short sleeves. She hums. She knows that she looks good in that one at least. And it’s not too dressy but is suitable if he takes them somewhere where she needs to be dressed up. She also notes how the short cut will drive Lucifer crazy and smirks.

“Yeah, good choice, Baby.”

She puts the dress with a pair of red heels that match in colour almost exactly. Leaving her hair down, she only uses a small amount of product to make sure it will remain frizz-free and wavy throughout the night. She selects a dark rouge for her lips and dusty grey eye shadow which matches her clutch purse. She looks herself over in the mirror.

Something is missing.

Jewellery.

She opens her jewellery box and picks out some earrings, nothing too big, just some small stones to add a little sparkle to her ensemble. Her hand automatically goes to her neck only to find the empty space where something once was. She lifts the inside of her jewellery box out, revealing a secret compartment. Inside lays her father’s wedding ring and the twisted chunk of metal that Lucifer had given to her.

The bullet.

She doesn’t know why she had ever taken it off.

Picking it up, she squeezes it tight in her hand and she feels more whole than she has in a long time.

She fiddles with the clasp and manages to fasten the chain around her neck.

Straightening it, she looks in the mirror for the last time, satisfied, and heads downstairs just in time to hear Dan knocking at the door.

Dan was supposed to have picked Trixie up from school but a case he was working had kept him behind and she had reluctantly agreed to him picking her up at the house. She really hadn’t wanted Dan to know that she had a date and wanted even less for him to know it was with Lucifer. She thought about getting a sitter instead, but it’d been a while since Trixie had spent any time with her father and it didn’t seem fair to either of them to rearrange.

She knew he had been grieving for Charlotte, but they hadn’t really spoken about it much. He had occasionally called to check if she and Trixie were okay but other than that she hadn’t seen him properly in a while.

She just hoped that Dan would leave before Lucifer got here and she wouldn’t have to deal with the ensuing bickering.

Dan stands awkwardly in the doorway when she opens the door. He looks shocked when he sees her outfit.

“I’m sorry it’s so late,” he says, not taking his eyes off her. “I hope I didn’t put out your plans too much.”

By the way he’s looking her up and down, she can tell he wants to ask what exactly her plans are but manages to hold his tongue.

“Not at all,” she says shaking her head. “Monkey, your Dad’s here,” she calls to Trixie who shuffles out of her room with a disappointed look on her face.

She knows the girl wanted to see Lucifer. Hopefully she doesn’t let it slip to Dan.

The girl groans, “but I wanted—”

“No,” Chloe cuts her off before she can finish her complaint, “now, go get your stuff, okay?”

She does as her mother asks and returns to her room to retrieve her things.

Dan and Chloe wait in uncomfortable silence. She wishes Trixie would hurry up.

The sound of footsteps approaching from the walkway outside makes her heart almost stop. Lucifer is _never_ early. Of course, he would choose now to change that.

He appears behind Dan looking impeccable in a coal black, three-piece suit with a crisp, deep, red dress shirt beneath and holding a bouquet of red roses in his hand. He gives her a questioning look as he slides past Dan into the house. She notes that his sun burn from the previous day has gone and his usual complexion is back. 

Dan’s face twists into an ugly expression as the picture comes together.

“Hello Darling, Daniel,” Lucifer greets them in turn.

“ _You,”_ Dan spits back at him, his face turning a shade of red that almost matches the other man’s shirt.

Lucifer raises an eyebrow at him, oblivious to the reason for his unpleasant reaction. Chloe is too. She doesn’t realise what’s about to happen until it’s too late.

Dan grits his teeth and sucker punches Lucifer right in the nose. The taller man is caught off guard and stumbles backwards a few steps, holding his hand over his, now bleeding, nose.

“It’s your fault!” Dan shouts at him, the veins in his forehead bulge out as his anger grows, “your fault that Charlotte’s dead! You knew about Pierce all along, you Bastard!”

Dan takes another step towards the other man, but Chloe intercepts him, placing herself between the two and pressing a hand to Dan’s chest.

“Stop it!” She hisses at him. “I know you’re upset about Charlotte, we _all_ are but, you can’t take this out on Lucifer. It’s not his fault and you know it.”

Dan takes a breath, visibly relaxing but does not break his death glare from Lucifer.

The silence between the trio is broken when small footsteps hurry back to them as Trixie barrels into Lucifer’s side with a gleeful shout of “Lucifer!” He awkwardly takes the hug, unable to pat the child on the head as he usually would with one hand still holding the roses and the other, his bleeding nose.

“Are you going to be civil?” Chloe addresses Dan.

He nods, still clenching his jaw in an obvious show of frustration. He takes a deep breath and puts on a mask before greeting his daughter.

“Hey Monkey, you got all your stuff ready?”

The girl releases Lucifer, to his relief, and nods to her Dad, shrugging her backpack onto her shoulders and waving Miss Alien at him.

“Good, you wanna go for ice cream?” He asks with a smile and gets a whoop in response as she rushes out the door calling her goodbyes to her and Lucifer over her shoulder.

Dan bobs his head to Chloe and gives Lucifer one last glare before following her out the door, slamming it behind him.

She turns to Lucifer. “I am _so_ sorry. Are you okay?”

He pulls his hand away from his face and wrinkles his nose. The bleeding has stopped. “It’s not broken,” he says with a wan smile.

“He was supposed to be here earlier,” she explains, fetching a clean damp cloth from the kitchen. “Here, let me,” she says, balancing on her tiptoes to wipe the blood from his face. Pleased that she’s gotten it all off she stops and kisses him chastely on the lips. The sharp scent of his cologne mingles with the woody scent of whiskey and the faintest hint of sickly sweet of cigarette smoke on his breath.

“You look gorgeous,” he says as they part, gazing longingly at her with starry eyes.

She feels heat rush to her cheeks as the tension of the confrontation dwindles away.

He holds out the bouquet of roses in front of him.

“Thank you.” Her heart flutters at the gesture despite the unpleasantness, she isn’t going to let it spoil her evening.

“You’re quite welcome,” he says with a curt nod of his head.

She takes the flowers from him, finds a vase in the kitchen and places them in water.

“So,” she says, turning back to him as she arranges the flowers, “are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

He grins. “That would spoil the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

“Fine,” she huffs, “but you know I hate surprises.”

“We shall see about that!” He waggles his eyebrows and opens the door for her as she finishes with the flowers and picks up her clutch.

 

~

 

Dusk falls as they drive. The sky slowly shifts from blue to a fiery medley of reds and oranges and then to a deep purple, before settling a dark void blue. The stars can only be faintly seen, struggling to shine through the bright lights of the city below.

He drives for around forty minutes before she finally asks him again.

“Lucifer, where the _Hell_ are you taking us?”

He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her. “Certainly not to Hell, My Dear.”

She rolls her eyes at the evasion.

Despite the roof on the convertible being down, it’s not cold and she’s quite enjoying the ride. She often does like riding with him in the Corvette, at least when he’s not driving like a maniac. The wind in your hair as you cruise down the empty highway under the stars. It’s freeing. She can understand why he loves the car so much.

The fact that she has no idea where he’s taking her bugs her though. She’s not sure why, maybe it’s nerves, maybe it’s excitement. She suspects it’s a mixture of both. Curiously though, he appears to have taken them completely away from the city where she expected they’d be going and has taken the 210 towards Angeles National Forest.

“Seriously, Lucifer where are we going?” She asks again in what she knows is a futile attempt.

He grins. “You’ll see in a few minutes; we’re almost there.”

He pulls off the highway and ends up on a small winding road that takes them into what she thinks is a part of the National Forest. She leans her head back on the rest, staring up at the symphony of stars that are now visible away from the light pollution of the city. The winding path climbs for a while before they reach a clearing.

He stops in the clearing, switches off the ignition and gets out. She wonders what exactly he’s stopping for because she can’t see anything here. He walks around the car, opening her door and she climbs out, taking his proffered arm.

He guides her through the empty clearing. She’s not quite sure how he knows where he’s going in the dark, but she lets him lead her anyway. She stumbles a few times but his strong hold on her keeps her upright. He takes them onto a small path at the edge of the clearing which they follow through some trees until they emerge in a second clearing.

Chloe gasps at the sight before her.

In the middle of the clearing sits a picnic table adorned with a red table cloth and a small cluster of candles flickering in the centre. A few candles are dotted around, basking the area in a warm, yellow glow. The picnic table is set with silver cutlery that shines in the candle light, dishes and champagne flutes. A cooler sits on the floor at the far end of the picnic table.

Lucifer leads her by the arm to the table where she takes a seat. She jumps as a man approaches Lucifer, she hadn’t noticed him lurking in the shadows at first.

He hands Lucifer a square black bag, the type used by fast food carriers on scooters, and in turn Lucifer hands the man a wad of bills.

“Have a nice evening Sir, Ma’am,” he regards them both politely, before retreating down the path which they had walked up.

She stares up at the stars as he sets the bag down on the table in front of them. Out here she can see thousands of star clusters, splattered across the night sky like fine paint drops.

“This is beautiful,” she breathes.

He unzips the bag and looks at her with eyes that twinkle like the stars themselves. “I told you I’d take you somewhere that we could see them properly.”

The man who made the stars is standing in front of her looking at her like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Her heart does somersaults in her chest and her eyes sting as tears well and flood her vision. The thought of her ruined makeup passes through her mind very briefly.

Noticing her sudden tears his face falls, eyes going wide with worry.

“You don’t like it,” he says, his voice straining.

He really doesn’t get the whole tears of joy thing, does he?

She stands stepping over the bench to put herself square with him. “I love it.”

He looks baffled “Then why—”

“Just… come here,” she says wrapping her arms tightly around his middle and resting her head on his shoulder. His hands wrap around her, sending warmth through her. His head rests against hers and she feels him smiling.

After a moment he disturbs the embrace, suggesting they should eat before the food gets cold.

She takes a seat.

As he unzips the bag, the air fills with a warm and spicy aroma. A smell she knows all too well.

He pulls out the small white cardboard boxes, confirming her theory.

“How on Earth?” She asks, staring up at him with her mouth agape.

He shrugs setting the boxes down. “I paid them extra for the trouble.”

“No, I mean how did you know Shao-Ling’s is my favourite?”

He pauses and looks at her with a raised eyebrow. “I _do_ listen when you speak, you know.”

She frowns. “I don’t ever remember telling you that.”

“You did,” he replies casually, “five hundred and eighty-three days ago. We were on a stake out outside a warehouse in Marina Del Ray. We discussed the best take away places in the city. I said I had a preference for Yang’s, and you said that I hadn’t tried Shao-ling’s,” he explains nonchalantly before returning to the task of serving out the food.

How can he possibly remember that? “Lucifer, that was almost two years ago, how do you remember that?”

He frowns as he opens a box releasing a fluffy puff of steam into the air. “Why wouldn’t I remember?”

“I just…” she begins but finds herself unable to finish. He really does listen to her, all the things she’s told him over the course of their partnership. He listens and he remembers.

She takes in the scene around her, a quiet candlelit dinner under the stars. Her favourite take-out food in a place where her father had brought her camping and she in turn, had brought her daughter.

A lump forms in her throat and she blinks away the familiar sting of tears from her eyes.

It’s all so thoughtful, so meaningful, her heart aches with love for the ridiculously sweet man.

The fact that he’s the Devil, a fallen angel, immortal… they no longer register in her brain because, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters in the slightest because now, she knows an absolute truth.

That she loves him with all that her heart allows.

When she’s with him she feels complete, like she’s found something she hadn’t realised she’d been searching for her entire life.

She loves him and she knows she will never not love him, from now until the end of time.

He’s finished serving out their meal now and places the bag on the floor next to the cooler, which he opens and retrieves an expensive looking bottle of champagne. He pops the cork with practiced grace and pours them both a glass of the bubbling beverage.

He sits across from her, gazing at her like she’s a supernova, exploding with endless beauty and he can’t bring himself to look away.

His eyes are a dark obsidian, a deep void into an oblivion that she finds herself falling deeper and deeper into.

“Lucifer…” she utters softly. The candlelight illuminates both their faces, outlining his sharp, handsome features. She reaches across the table and takes his hand in hers. It’s a warm, comforting weight and she realises that her hand feels empty when it is absent. “This…” her throat constricts with the emotions that threaten to overwhelm her. “It’s perfect.” She smiles, a warm smile that she hopes conveys how much this means to her. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Chloe.”


	5. Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a tough case and impromptu tribe night Chloe finds herself at Lux wrestling with her own doubts about her relationship with Lucifer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It's so sweet, knowing that you love me  
> Though we don't need to say it to each other, sweet" - "Sweet" by Cigarettes After Sex

 

As she lays in bed in the morning she can’t help but feel a little bit bad for not asking Lucifer to stay but, he had been an absolute gentleman about it. She just didn’t want to rush into anything. She thinks she’s had her fill of rushing into things for one lifetime, thank you very much.

Their date had been wonderful though. More than wonderful, it had been the most perfect evening of her entire life. Not that it’s a very high bar to reach, mind, even her wedding day with Dan had only been at the registry office and had contained little to no romance, followed by promptly returning to work.

She could have so easily asked him to stay. God knows she wanted to. Her heart feels like it’s going to pound right out of her chest whenever she even thinks about Lucifer anywhere near her bed. But, a niggling fear has bloomed in her mind.

Lucifer has been with so many people.

What if she isn’t good enough for him?

What if he finds her boring? Her and Dan had been the farthest thing from experimental when it came to the bedroom department. She worries that Lucifer might grow bored or be unsatisfied by her.

She rolls under the sheets, outstretching an arm to the cold empty space beside her. She misses him though. How silly that feels. Missing him after seeing him only last night, she feels like a pining school girl. She just wishes he could always be here, beside her.

Bringing her hand up to her neck she clutches the bullet necklace, a piece of him she carries with her.

She sighs, grabbing her phone off the night stand.

6:14am the time reads. She still has plenty of time before she has to get up for work. She opens her messages, clicking on her top contact.

 

              _Chloe [6:14]: Hey, you awake?_

She doesn’t expect him to reply when he doesn’t immediately respond. She doubts he’s up this early unless he has to be but, then her phone pings and a reply pops up.

 

              _Lucifer [6:16]: Morning, Love._

_Lucifer [6:16]: Sleep well?_

She savours his words, bringing her phone closer to herself as she tucks her legs up close to her chest. _God_ she really is acting like a schoolgirl.

 

              _Chloe [6:17]: I did, thank you. I didn’t expect you to be up this early._

_Lucifer [6:17]: I have business to deal with at Lux before work._

_Chloe [6:18]: Ah._

_Chloe [6:18]: Thank you for last night._

_Lucifer [6:18]: It was my pleasure._

Her eyes linger on the message, fingers hovering over the keys, wondering whether she should apologise for not asking him to stay. She decides against it.

 

              _Chloe [6:21]: I have to get up, I’ll see you at work?_

_Lucifer [6:21]: I have a delivery at 9:30, I’ll be over after that._

_Chloe [6:22]: Okay, see you then. x_

_Lucifer [6:22]: Bye, Love. *Devil emoji*_

She smiles, putting her phone down on the table and rises from the bed, heading for the shower.

 

~

 

Sitting at her desk she finds her eyes keep flickering to the stairs, waiting for the moment that he gracefully bounces down them with that smile that lights up the room. She taps her pen on the desk. It’s certainly a welcome distraction from her boring paperwork, but her work output is suffering as a result, she thinks, eyeing the huge stack of papers piled high in the corner of her desk.

She sighs, world-weary and thoroughly done with writing reports despite the day still being young. When had she gotten so restless?

“Morning Chloe!” Ella’s bouncy voice greets her as she crosses the precinct, stopping at her desk. Her eyes land on the empty space beside her desk. “Where’s Lucifer?”

“Hey Ella,” she smiles, “he’s coming in later, business at Lux to deal with.”

Her eyes linger on her brightly coloured t-shirt that dons an image of two halves of an avocado with arms and legs and the writing “let's advocuddle” printed underneath. Trixie would love it.

Ella leans in close, resting her elbows on the desk and shoots her a cheeky smile. “So how did it go?”

She rolls her eyes in response. Damn Dan and his big mouth. “Dan told you?”

The younger woman nods sheepishly but her smile doesn’t falter.

“ _Of_ course he did,” she says flatly.

Her smile widens. “Well, how was it? Was it romantic? Did he take you somewhere fancy?”

“It was—”

“Good morning Detective! Miss Lopez!” His bubbly voice comes from behind, startling her.

Her heart flutters.

He stops by the side of the desk and Chloe smiles up at him. “Good morning.”

She can’t take her eyes off him. He is her beacon of light and the world around him seems dull in comparison. His slate grey suit hugs him in all the right places with a golden pocket watch chain arching across his waistcoat. A crisp white shirt beneath frames his face, seemingly illuminating him, and a coordinating white pocket square ties the ensemble together.

The urge to jump up and kiss those perfect lips suddenly overwhelms her.

Given their current locale, she manages to rein herself in promising herself to get him later.

“Hey, Lucifer!” Ella chimes, apparently oblivious to how distracted Chloe is by his presence. “Anyway, Chloe, the tribe is going out for drinks tonight at this new place that’s opening up. Are you in?” Ella asks.

She hums, looking up at Lucifer. She could really use the night with her friends, but she’s supposed to have Trixie. Lucifer gives her a look that she interprets as his approval. She could always ask Dan to have Trixie one more night.

“Come on, Decker, live a little!”

“You should go, Detective, have a little fun once in a while.”

She would rather have fun _with him_ she thinks to herself.

“I… uh… sure,” she says nodding, “I just need to check in with Dan, make sure he can have Trix one more night.”

“Great!” Ella whoops, retreating backwards in the direction of her lab. Behind Lucifer’s back she sticks up both thumbs and makes a lewd expression whilst nodding her head towards him. Chloe sighs inwardly. If the looks that she and the Scientist are receiving from their colleagues are any indication, their secret won’t be as such for long.

“It’s gonna be epic Decker!” Ella shouts across the precinct.

Lucifer takes a chair from an unoccupied desk and places it beside hers, settling gracefully.

He looks over the paper work on her desk and asks, “any new cases?”

“Nope, not yet.”

He sighs, sinking further into the chair as she continues with her paperwork.

After a few minutes he begins to fidget with the various pieces of stationary on her desk. It’s when he starts playing with her police car that she decides to intervene.  

“If you’re bored you can always help me with paperwork,” she smiles at him.

He stops, the car leaving his fingers and rolling across the desk, and blinks back at her. “But that’s boring!” He whines, sounding an awful lot like a five-year-old.

“I could really use the help.”

That gets him. He considers it for a moment, like he’s weighing up his options. Helping his Detective with such a tedious task or sitting in silence, suffering the boredom. He looses an over-dramatic sigh before conceding. “Fine.”

Just as she hands him a pen and pile of paper work the lieutenant appears at the door to his office. “Detective Decker, you have a case,” he says waving a file in the air.

“Lovely!” Lucifer exclaims, eagerly hopping out of his chair and striding over to take the file, obviously pleased with himself at having escaped the tedious task of doing paperwork.

She hums, shaking her head at him. “Lucky escape mister. I’ll get you next time.”

 

In the lot on the way to her car, she walks in a daze, unable to focus fully on work. There is only one thing on her mind, and she can’t shake it any longer. The temptation is just too much. Lucifer chatters amicably beside her and hasn’t seemed to notice that she’s not paying much attention to what he’s saying. Something about the delivery man at Lux?

He pauses. “Detective are you listening to a word I’m saying?” He asks indignantly, obviously noticing that her thoughts seem preoccupied.

She hums, shaking her head. “Sorry, I’m just a little distracted….”

They reach the car and he stops, rounding on her, his face creasing in concern. “Is everything okay?”

Everything _is_ okay. More than okay, in fact. If only she could think of a way to show him just _how_ okay she is.

He steps closer into her space, his hand reaching out to touch her elbow.

This really isn’t helping her not be distracted.

Heat pools within her in response to his close proximity. She suddenly can’t tear her eyes away from his perfect plush, pink lips.

Unable to contain her lascivious, lust-filled thoughts for a moment longer, she takes a quick look around to confirm that the parking lot is indeed empty and reaches out, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulls him into a passionate, frenzied kiss. He lets out a surprised gurgle, stumbling backwards into the side of the car but she presses deeper, relishing the taste of his mouth.

She feels him smile against her as he overcomes his initial shock and responds, his hand coming up to cradle her head. His tongue dives deeper, exploring her depths, drawing out unbecoming moans from her. She runs her hand through his hair, pulling gently at the short ones at his nape. His neatly trimmed stubble burns her skin as it rubs against her, it will surely leave noticeable marks, but the mixture of pleasure and pain sends a scintillating tingle down her spine that drowns out the rational voice in her mind.

She pulls away to catch her breath and he bends lower, kissing a trail along her jaw to her ear, nibbling at the area beneath it before soothing it with his tongue. His hand entangles in her hair, tilting her head back allowing better access to her neck. She leans into him, squeezing his bicep whilst basking in the pleasure that his skilful mouth brings her. He nips the skin at her neck causing her to push him away, her rational mind surfacing for a moment, “no marking,” she scolds him, slapping his arm. He smirks, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, a lust-fuelled fire burning in those chestnut eyes.

He plunges his lips back on hers, taking her breath away, kissing her like he might devour her whole if she’s not careful. She slides one hand under his jacket, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pulling him until their bodies are pressed firmly together and wraps her leg around his. Her other hand digging in his dark hair, ruffling it. His kisses become hungrier, more intense and she feels herself weakening at the knees. One of his hands slides down her side and cups her ass as he smirks against her mouth. She finds herself biting his lip despite “no marking” being her own rule. Her mind is overcome with the raw, frantic, passion of it all.

She has never craved someone so deeply, so madly before. Never had the overwhelming urge to rip someone else’s clothes off and take them on the floor then and there, no matter where they were. Not like she does with him.

Their flurry of passion subsides as they break apart, both panting heavily.

They stare into each other’s eyes. A lopsided grin spreads across his face and his eyes twinkle in the aftermath of the raging fire that they held mere moments ago. His jacket sits askew on his shoulders, his collar sticks up at one side and his hair protrudes haphazardly at all angles.

He looks thoroughly dishevelled.

She can’t help but be a little proud of her work.

“I didn’t know you had it in you, Detective!”

She blinks, smiling and rests a hand on his chest. “I’ve been wanting to do that all morning,” she says with a sultry smile. Part of her is screaming to continue but, her rational thought manages to subdue it and she gestures to the car. “Crime scene?”

“Right,” he replies, straightening his jacket and holding the door open for her.

 

~

 

She drives whilst he attempts to tidy his hair in the tiny sun visor mirror.

“Hey, about last night,” she starts.

He stops straightening his hair and leans back in the seat, slamming the visor closed and looks at her.

“I had a really great time. Nobody has ever done anything so thoughtful for me before and I just want you to know that it meant a lot to me. _You_ mean a lot to me, Lucifer.” She reaches her hand over the centre panel and rests it on his forearm, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m sorry that I didn’t ask you to stay. It’s not that I don’t want to. I do. It’s just I don’t want to rush and I just… I want it to be special.”

He looks vaguely surprised at her admission. “I assure you detective, it _will_ be special but, there’s absolutely no need to apologise. You owe me nothing. If you want to _go slow_ , as it were, then slow we shall go.”

She’s struck by how incredibly mature he’s being about the whole thing.

“Thank you,” she says, and she means it, she’s just not sure how slow she can actually go. If their little dance in the parking lot was anything to go by then she certainly isn’t going to be able to hold out for much longer.

 

~

 

They arrive at a small pink house in a rough part of town. A white, albeit slightly run down, picket fence and an untrimmed front lawn surrounds the property. A well weathered array of colourful garden ornaments seem to drown in the unkept grass. A flurry of officers and forensic techs scurry around taking statements and processing evidence.

The pair manoeuvre their way through the people and along the cracked pavement to the entrance of the house. The inside is a different story, the walls are covered with family photos, ornaments and crosses. The place isn’t particularly big, and the décor isn’t fancy, but it looks significantly better kept than the exterior.

They find Dan in the sitting room, sat on the couch next to an elderly woman with frazzled grey hair who is babbling rapidly in a language that Chloe doesn’t recognise and is wielding a heavy cross around her neck in both hands. Dan rises from the couch to join them.

“Hey Dan,” Chloe says, hoping that these two can be civil.

Dan bobs his head, “Chloe.”

“ _Douche,”_ Lucifer chimes, serving to wind Dan up as he clenches his jaw back at the taller man shooting him an unfriendly look. She elbows him in the side, and he grumbles, but quickly falls quiet.

“Where’s the body?” Chloe asks attempting to distract from the rapidly rising tension in the room.

Ella emerges from a doorway at the back of the room. “Hey Chloe, Lucifer, vic’s in the bedroom.”

“Right, thanks Ella,” she turns to Dan and gestures to the babbling woman, “who’s that?”

Dan’s expression takes a puzzled turn as he shrugs. “I have absolutely no idea. I’m not sure what language she’s speaking but it’s definitely not English or Spanish.”

“ _O-_ kay. If she doesn’t speak English, then who called 911?” She asks.

“The neighbour. Apparently, she went for help when she found the body. He’s with the medics now, he’s in shock. Haven’t been able to get much more from him than that. I’m gonna call for a translator, hopefully someone knows what language it is.”

Lucifer lets out an exasperated sigh, stepping past Dan and shooting him a look that says _why-bother-when-you-have-me._ He takes a seat next to the woman and begins conversing with her. The trio watch on, in shock. At first, she talks fast with lots of manic hand gestures, still clutching her cross but, as Lucifer talks she begins to calm down. Chloe thinks that the language sounds vaguely familiar, but she still can’t identify it. Eventually the woman claps her hands together, bowing her head to Lucifer and he nods, standing to join them again.

“Right—”

“Man, what language was that?” Dan cuts him off.

Lucifer shoots him an irritated look. “Armenian,” the expression on his face says, _obviously._

“You speak Armenian?” Chloe asks.

“Of course, I’m the Devil, I speak everything.”

Ella regards him with wide eyes. “Dude you are like, _the best_ at this method stuff!”

Chloe tries to stifle her laughter as he opens his mouth and moans, “for the last time, I am not a bloody _method actor_!”

“So method of you to say,” she responds with a wink, punching him playfully in the arm, to which he just huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Right, so, what did she say?” Chloe asks, trying to get the topic back to the case.

“She said she’s the victim’s grandmother, when Maria didn’t get up for work this morning, she went in her room looking for her and found the body. Claims Maria had no enemies and, _conveniently,_ heard nothing suspicious.” Sarcasm drips from his voice as he shoots the elderly woman a distrustful look.

Dan sighs, a flash of irritation dancing across his face that he promptly directs at Lucifer. “No help there then.”

Chloe nods her head, agreeing. “Ella talk us through the crime scene,” she says, making her way to the bedroom. Dan splits off from them, taking the old woman by the arm and leading her in the opposite direction, presumably to get a proper witness statement done with a translator.

The bedroom is small and sparsely decorated. A double bed sits in the middle of the room with a simple cross hanging on the wall above it, a wardrobe against the wall at the far side and a dressing table with a mirror by the door. On the bed the body of a young woman lays splayed out and face down, the covers beneath saturated deep red with blood.

“Vic is Maria Kandarian, twenty-nine.” Ella pauses, bowing her head reverently. Lucifer ambles around, inspecting the room.

“Cause looks like a single nine-mil gunshot wound to the chest, but we’ll know for certain when we get the coroner’s report,” she continues.

Chloe stands in the doorway and crosses her arms, frowning. “Was she killed here?”

“Judging from the amount of blood and pattern of lividity, she was killed here, yes,” she sighs, shaking her head, a deferential expression crossing her usually cheery face. “We’ll find out who did this,” she addresses the victim.

“If she was killed here wouldn’t the Grandmother have heard the gunshot?” Chloe looks to Lucifer.

He just shrugs back at her. “She could be lying? _You humans_ have been known to do that.”

“What reason would she have to lie? She seemed genuinely upset.”

He hums as he hovers by the dressing table and picks up a small photograph of the victim which was stuck in the frame of the mirror. The picture is of Maria and a bald, heavily tattooed man. His arm is around her shoulders and they both look happy, smiling with the sun behind them. Lucifer looks the photo over before handing it to Chloe. “Boyfriend, perhaps?” He suggests, raising an eyebrow.

She takes the photo and hums, “maybe… Did you find anything else Ella?”

“Well, there were no signs of forced entry.”

“So, she probably knew her attacker.”

She watches Lucifer as he paces the small room, looking like he’s analysing every detail, searching for something. He suddenly halts by the side of the bed, crouching down. He pushes the bed slightly away from the wall easily with one hand. Reaching behind, there is a series of clicks as he pulls a plastic vent free from the wall and retrieves a clear baggie filled with a fine white powder that had been concealed within.

Before either woman can protest he’s opening the bag and sticking his finger in.

“ _Lucifer!”_ Chloe shouts at him.

He simply licks his finger clean whilst meeting her eyes and he takes his sweet time doing it. She feels heat rush to her cheeks and a flurry of fire ignite within her.

 _No,_ this is really not the place for _that._ She locks those thoughts away and manages to shoot him a glare.

“Cocaine,” he says with a smug grin.

_Unbelievable._

“Lucifer, that could have been anything, you can’t just go around _tasting strange white powders.”_

He sighs. “Relax, Detective, I know cocaine when I see it.”

“Then why did you taste it?”

He grins, waggling his eyebrows. “Just to be sure.”

She rolls her eyes.

“How did you even know that it was hidden there?” Ella asks as she snatches the baggie from his hands and carefully reseals it.

“I could hear the bag ruffling in the air con,” he says, raising an eyebrow that says _you couldn’t?_

She shuffles Lucifer out of the way and reaches into the vent pulling out five more packages, one of which she singles out comparing the colour to the others. It’s a fine powder but against the others appears an off-white.

“This one doesn’t look like cocaine,” Ella says with uncertainty in her voice.

Lucifer peers over her shoulder and with one look decides, “that’s because it isn’t cocaine.”

Both the women give him an expectant look when he doesn’t elaborate.

“It’s called 2-DPMP, or Vanilla Sky. Incredible high, lasts much longer than cocaine.”

A pang of concern floats to the periphery of her mind, shaken free by the way he’s flaunting drug use like it’s no big deal. It was something she would have to talk to him about at some point, especially if he was going to be spending more time around Trixie. Filing that thought away for later she brings her attention back to the case.

“This number of drugs, she must have been mixed up in a bad crowd. Maybe this was the work of a rival dealer or a client. We should look into possible drug connections starting with the maybe boyfriend. Lucifer, can you ask the Grandmother for a name of the guy in the picture?”

He nods taking the photo back from her and she follows him to the outside of the house where the woman is sat with a uniformed officer. He speaks to her for a moment, showing her the picture and then turns back to Chloe.

“Samvel Saroyan, Maria’s boyfriend.”

“Right, I have some questions for Samvel.”

 

~

 

Back at the precinct, a quick search in the D.M.V database identifies Maria’s boyfriend, Samvel Saroyan, thirty-two. An open arrest warrant is out on Samvel and his brother Nikolai for outstanding drug charges.

Great.

What seemed a promising lead had quickly fizzled out into a dead end. She puts a B.O.L.O out on the brothers in the hope that someone will spot them, for now though they have little to go on.

They spend the day combing through Maria’s life looking for other possible suspects or motive and so far, have come up empty.

She checks the time on her computer, growing irritated at the lack of traction they have in this case.

No reliable witnesses, no murder weapon, a suspect they can’t locate and a motive that doesn’t seem to add up. As far as she can tell Maria wasn’t into any illicit activities, she worked a full-time job as a waitress and didn’t seem to have any close friends or relatives beside her Grandmother. The drugs have to have been be Samvel’s. They need to find and question him, or they aren’t going to get anywhere.

She sighs, running a hand through her hair and holding her head in her hands, rubbing her temples. Staring at a computer screen all day is bringing on a headache. She could really use a cup of coffee about now.

Almost as if he had read her mind, Lucifer appears in front of her desk and places a steaming cup of coffee down.

“Thank you,” she says, offering him a warm appreciative smile, wrapping her hands around the mug.

He takes a seat in his chair beside the desk, crossing his legs, picking up a file and begins to study it intently.

 

The hours draw on and the precinct slowly empties around them. Ella halts at her desk on her way out.

“No luck yet?”

Chloe sighs heftily, closing another file. “Nope. We have nothing apart from the boyfriend who nobody can seem to find.”

“I’m sorry,” she says with a frown, “that totally sucks.”

“Yeah…” Her focus drifts and she taps the table in front of her restlessly.

“Anyway, I’ll see you later?” Ella asks, and Chloe remembers that she agreed to go out for drinks with the tribe. She could really use the distraction, this case is driving her crazy but the thought of leaving it open and going out feels like she’s letting the victim down. The girl deserves justice.

“I’m sorry, Ella, I really am it’s just this case… I think I’m just going to stay and dig through these files again. Hopefully I can find something we missed earlier.”

Lucifer lets out an over-dramatic, frustrated sigh, throwing his head back. “But Detective! We’ve been through these files a dozen times, we haven’t missed anything, I _assure you!”_

She knows that he’s right. She isn’t going to achieve anything by looking through them again, she thinks, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip.

“Go out, have a break. You deserve it. We can look again tomorrow, if we must,” he adds.

She finally gives in, “fine. But, we are back on this first thing tomorrow, agreed?”

He grins. “Agreed.”

 

~

 

They walk slowly to where their cars are parked in the lot. The setting sun bathes L.A. in an orangey hue that casts long shadows across the asphalt.

“Are you okay?” He asks knowing full well that she isn’t. He knows that her heart breaks for poor Maria and she holds herself responsible for not yet being able to bring her killer to justice.

She turns to him as they approach their cars. “I just can’t help but think, what if we don’t find him? She’s someone’s daughter…”

He can’t stand to see his Detective like this. He has to do something. He takes her hands in his, squeezing lightly. “We will find who did this. You have my word.”

She pulls him closer, wrapping her arms around his middle and rests her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she mumbles into his jacket.

“Well you know what they say, Love, justice is like an orgasm.”

She pulls away from him, frowning.

“It can never come too late.”

“ _Who_ says that?!” She laughs. Somehow, he always manages to make her laugh.

“Oh, just a detective I once knew. Well, he was technically a consultant,” he says, with a thoughtful expression.

She smiles and rests her cheek on his shoulder once again.

They stand like that for a while, taking comfort in each other’s embrace.

 

~

 

When Chloe gets to the new club Ella had told her to meet them at, she pushes her way through the masses to find the trio sat on the corner of the bar. They greet her loudly as she takes the seat they’ve saved for her.

The club itself is strange, the bar has a metal top that gives the place a clinical feel. On the back wall behind the bar glass flasks and beakers of all shapes and sizes hold a medley of vivid, colourful liquids. The pounding baseline of, what Chloe considers, awful electric music reverberates in the room at almost a deafening level.

Ella signals the bartender who skilfully mixes a series of brightly coloured spirits and pours them out into four glasses. Well, more like beakers, the type she’s seen in Ella’s lab, Chloe notes as she takes the electric blue drink that is now billowing a puffy white cloud of smoke.

She examines the drink carefully, lifting it to eye level to see the little bubbles that fizz through it. “What _is_ this?”

“It’s called a Tesla!” Ella shouts, straining to be heard over the loud music. At Chloe’s still puzzled look she adds, “it’s a science bar!”

Right. Of course it is. The flasks and the clinical feel of the place makes more sense now. The three start on their drinks, Ella and Maze downing them in one fell swoop whilst Linda takes a mouthful and sets it down again.

She lifts her own drink, tentatively sipping it. It actually tastes good, sweet and fruity, a little like blueberries. She takes a longer drink.

She still can’t shake her annoyance at getting nowhere with her case. It happens from time to time, eventually their suspect will show up but, she just can’t help feeling guilty.

“So,” Ella smiles at her, putting a hand on her arm, “are you gonna tell us all about it?”

“About what?” Chloe replies pulled from her reverie.

“You and Lucifer, duh! Don’t think I didn’t notice what you two had been up to when I saw you at the crime scene.”

Her heart skips a beat. Her knee-jerk reaction is to play dumb. “What we were up to? We weren’t up to anything. Nothing at all,” She says a little too quickly, fooling no one. Linda and Ella raise eyebrows at her from along the bar. Maze sits, signalling the bartender for another drink, and throws a smirk in her direction.

“Don’t think I didn’t see the way his shirt was creased and is hair was ruffled. Not to mention the stupid smile on your face! Even Dan noticed.” She pauses, noticing the worry that must be clear on her face. “Don’t worry, Decker, your _secret_ is safe with us.”

She feels heat rush to her cheeks. Had it really been that obvious?

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense!”

She sighs, resigning to the fact that they aren’t going to stop bugging her about it. “We’ve only been on one real date.”

Ella nods intently.

“It was…” She feels her heart squeeze at the thought of it. A meal shared under the stars in each other’s company. The way he looked at her in awe, like she had been the one to light the stars, not him. “Perfect.”

 

They chat, and they drink for the next couple of hours. Ella pries every detail she can out of her about her date with Lucifer which isn’t hard considering how lose her tongue gets when she’s had a few drinks. At least the case wasn’t weighing so heavy on her mind at the moment. Though, after talking about Lucifer practically all evening she finds that she misses him and longs for nothing more than the warmth of his embrace.

Eventually the group have had enough of the science bar and its expensive drinks, calling an uber to take them to the one place in the city that they are all VIPs with the privilege of drinking on the house.

 

When they arrive at Lux, the queue of people waiting to get inside still extends a long way down the sidewalk despite the late hour. They approach the bouncers who immediately recognise them and lift the velvety rope, allowing them entrance and eliciting several frustrated moans from the party-goers at the front of the queue. Pushing their way through the heaving mass of people, they make their way to the heavily crowded bar. Chloe glances around the club, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lucifer. When they reach the bar, Patrick notices them and moves to serve them despite the many people waiting.

“Hello ladies,” he says with an easy smile, “what can I get you tonight?”

“Hello Patrick,” Linda greets him, licking her lips, her voice slurring slightly.

Ella perks up, leaning over the bar and tells him, “four mojitos!”

Chloe gestures to him that she doesn’t want one. He dashes off, returning a moment later with three mojitos. The girls take them and head off to find a table, Chloe lingers at the bar hoping to speak to Patrick again.

He serves a few drinks before coming back to her. “Detective Decker! What can I do for you?”

“Where is he?” She asks him as he grabs a tumbler and rapidly fills it, handing it to the guy next to her.

“Upstairs.”

She gives him her thanks and sneaks off towards the elevator, hoping that the tribe don’t mind her slipping away.

 

On the way up in the lift a terrible thought hits her like a ton of bricks, causing her knees to weaken so she leans against the back wall. What if he has someone up there? They hadn’t yet defined their relationship. Was he even capable of monogamy? She’s bombarded with flashes of memories of interviewing a multitude of his exes and squeezes her eyes shut.

He wouldn’t do that to her.

Would he?

Doubt consumes her and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. He wouldn’t she tells herself over and over, trying and failing to get it to sink in.

Because she doesn’t know that he wouldn’t and that scares her.

She can’t have her heart broken again.

Especially by him.

A few minutes later she reaches the Penthouse, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest.

The sight she sees when the door slides open is not at all what she expected. His long frame lounges in an armchair, illuminated in the warm flickering glow of the lit fireplace. He’s wearing only that satin red robe she’d seen a few times before and is holding an open book in one hand, his legs crossed in front of him. He looks peaceful in a way she hasn’t really seen him before.

He must hear the soft ding of the lift but doesn’t turn to look at her, just says simply, “I’m not taking visitors at the moment. Off you pop.”

“Not even me?” She asks, a little unsure of herself.

“Detective!” He slams the book closed and jumps up from his seat to face her, “I didn’t expect…” His voice trails of and he regards her with a look of wonder in his eyes as she moves closer to him. “You look beautiful,” he says with a sincerity in his voice that makes her want to kiss him fiercely.

“Thank you,” she smiles at him, “so do you.”

He chuckles, but she means it. Bathed in the glimmering glow of the firelight his handsome features are highlighted making him look powerful, even angelic. She shuffles closer, drawing her arms around him, breathing in the smell of his spicy cologne. A calmness washes over her as his arms wrap around her.

She feels at home in his arms.

She rests her head on his shoulder, the cool of the silky satin robe feels nice against her skin. Her eyes flutter shut, and she feels herself start to drift, the night of dancing and drinking finally catching up to her. She feels his grip tighten slightly around her.

“Can I stay here tonight?” She mumbles into his shoulder.

“Of course, My Dear,” he says and she’s sure she can hear the smile in is voice. Or maybe she’s just had too much to drink. “I’ll set the guest bedroom up for you.”

“No!” She pulls away from him, swaying slightly on her feet before his strong hands catch her at the waist, steadying her. She feels herself blushing, but her big dose of liquid courage helps her continue. “I want to sleep next to you.” She buries her head in his neck, nuzzling him.

Suddenly, her feet are swept from underneath her and she finds herself in his arms being carried over to his bedroom. He sits her down on the edge of the bed.

“I won’t be a minute, Love. Feel free to borrow something from my wardrobe,” he says disappearing into the bathroom.

Taking him up on his offer, she stands, wobbles a little before finding her footing and walks into the wardrobe. She slips her dress down to her ankles and takes one of his white dress shirts, pulling it on to her shoulders, fastening a few buttons at the front. It’s far too big for her making it comfortable enough to sleep in. She walks back into the bedroom just as he emerges from the bathroom, wearing only his black boxer briefs.

He stops, staring at her.

“Looks better on you than it does on me,” he says, as she takes his hand and pulls him into bed.

She snuggles her head into his chest, her arms around him pulling him close. His head nestles in her hair.

Being in his bed, wearing his shirt, it brings her a wicked sense of déjà vu.

She has been in this position before though.

When he’d gone off to Vegas.

_Again._

And she’d been alone.

The wound caused by his previous jaunt had been ripped open, flooding her with the painful tide of emotions all over again.

“Can I ask you something,” she says quietly into his chest.

He nods. “Anything.”

“Why did you marry Candy?” The question that had plagued her for the longest time. He had left just as things were happening between them. He had left her alone after she had almost died.

It hurt her to her very core.

She needs to know why.

Obviously, it wasn’t the question he was expecting as he sits up in bed, putting some space between them. She looks up at him, his eyes are dark, and his face betrays his usually calm demeanour, the pain beneath showing for a split second before he composes himself, taking a breath.

“I thought that you were being used to manipulate me. That you didn’t have a choice. So, I left. I thought that by staying away I was protecting you, giving you your choice back. But… I see now that I-I… I was wrong. You did have a choice and for some reason that I still find hard to believe, you chose me in the end.”

In the end. After Marcus.

“I realise now that leaving was a mistake. I couldn’t stay away anyway, not from you.”

She pulls him into another hug and the both sink into the sheets, She plants a soft kiss on his lips and murmurs, “I choose you,” against them.


	6. Never Let Me Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe finally gets Lucifer to open up once and for all and their case takes an unfortunate turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning for mild depictions of blood and violence*
> 
> Title credit goes to Florence + The Machine.

She wakes in the morning with a pounding headache. Rubbing her temples, she sits up with a groan. Lucifer isn’t beside her. He had slept beside her, she remembers the comforting warmth of his embrace, encompassing her as she drifted off to sleep. So, where is he now? She tilts her head, listening for a moment, but hears no movement in the bathroom or sitting room.

A couple of Advil and a glass of water sit on the side table next to her clutch. She picks up the tablets and downs them with a gulp of water. Hopefully they will kick in soon. Rummaging in her bag she pulls her phone out and checks the time to see that it’s just gone 7am. A little more sleep would have been nice but at least she won’t be late for work.

Stretching, she pulls herself from the black, silky sheets and pads into the living room, rubbing her eyes against the harsh morning sunlight that filters in through the panoramic windows.

“Lucifer?” she calls out into the apartment. Had he left? Surely, he would have written her a note or something?

“Ah! In here Love!” His voice floats from beyond the archway in the bookshelves. She follows it, the scent of greasy breakfast foods wafts through the air making her stomach growl.

She enters the kitchen which, like the rest of the penthouse, is a huge open plan room with no door, just another archway. The black granite flooring is cold against her feet. The layout of the kitchen is much like her own, Counters outline the two back walls in an ‘L’ shape, an island sits in the middle and a breakfast bar with four black leather stools at one side. The counters are shiny black granite and the fronts are a deep mahogany wood, tying in with the décor of the rest of the flat.

Lucifer stands at the cooker. When he hears her enter, he spins on his heel with a frying pan still in his hand.

“Good morning, Love!” He greets her cheerily.

She smiles, his hair is mused and he’s wearing the red satin robe that she saw him in last night. He looks younger somehow. “Morning,” she replies taking a seat at the breakfast bar, yawning.

“Hungry?”

Her stomach growls again, as if in response to him, and she can’t help but laugh. “Yes!”

It smells amazing but, then again, everything he cooks always does. Who would have guessed The Devil would be such an artist in the kitchen? It makes sense though, he is after all, the fulfiller of desires and right now, she _desires_ a greasy full English to soothe her hangover.

“Coffee or hair of the dog?” He asks as he carries her plate over and places it in front of her, “or both?” He adds with a grin.

The mere thought of alcohol turns her stomach and she shudders. “Coffee, please.”

He grabs a mug from one of the cupboards and fills it with steaming coffee from the coffee press. He sets it down beside her before getting his own plate and mug and joining her at the breakfast bar.

Everything smells delicious. She isn’t sure where to start first as he appears to have gone all out, eggs, bacon, tomatoes, sausage, hash browns, mushrooms and beans all waiting to be devoured. First things first though, she leans over and places a soft peck on his stubbled cheek.

“Thank you.”

He looks up from his own breakfast with a mouthful of egg, a lopsided smile on his face that makes him look absolutely lovesick. “You’re quite welcome,” he says, speaking around it.

She digs in, starting with the sausage. A little groan escapes her lips as it graces her mouth.

“So, how was ladies night?”

“It was fun, but Ella _would not_ stop asking about you.”

He preens a little, a proud little smile gracing his beautiful face. “Me?”

“Well,” she finishes chewing a piece of bacon and swallows, “us.”

“Oh.”

“You know,” she says waving her fork at him, “the boss is going to find out, it’s only a matter of time.”

He shrugs as he spears half a grilled tomato with his fork. “So what if he does?”

“We’ve already discussed this, Lucifer. He might not let us work together if we’re involved.”

He turns to face her, a flicker of mischief dancing in his dark eyes. “Well then I’ll just _persuade_ him to let us. Besides,” he waves dismissively, “you almost _married_ the last lieutenant, and no one so much as batted an eyelash.”

The pain and the hurt that bubbles up every time someone so much as mentions Marcus must be evident on her face as he pauses, realising his mistake before quickly apologising.

“Sorry. I didn’t think.”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. It was all so stupid. I wish…” she trails off. His face softens, his eyes twinkling. “I just wish I’d listened to you. It just sounded so… _crazy_ at the time.”

“That’s my fault. I should have shown you the truth sooner. I tried, but…” he trails off and she remembers the odd conversation that they’d had in the lab after he’d claimed to have been kidnapped.

_“Why isn’t it working,” he’d said, frantically touching his face._

“You _were_ going to show me… in the lab,” she realises. She turns to him eyes wide. He was going to show her despite how afraid he’d been that he would scare her off for good. He trusts her. “Why didn’t you?”

A look of embarrassment flickers across his face for a split second before he catches himself, his protective mask falling into place. “When I was dumped in the desert, I gained my wings yes, but it seemed I’d something taken from me as well.”

“Your… _face?_ ”

His other face. The burnt, charred flesh that resides beneath his handsome human one. She had seen it eventually. It had been… a _shock_ at first, to say the least but, when she really thought about it, she’d felt sorry for him. How horrible it must be to have that done to you. She can’t imagine. Her hand automatically reaches out to hold his cheek, he nods against it.

She shakes her head trying to comprehend what he’s telling her. “ _How? Why_ …?”

“I don’t know,” he says looking wistfully at the space behind her. “If you believe what Amenadiel has to say I took it from myself…. I saved you from Mum and sent her where she can’t hurt anyone. I felt… _good_. I was ready to show you the truth and then just like that,” he huffs and throws a rueful glare at the ceiling, "my wings were back, and my face was gone. Then I killed Cain and I…” he trails off, swallowing hard as his gaze falls to his half-empty plate.

“You felt like a monster,” she whispers.

His eyes glisten as she brings her other hand up to his face, forcing him to look into her eyes. “You’re not a monster, not to me.”

She can tell he doesn’t believe her, but she will tell him as many times as she has to until he does. Or maybe… there’s something she can do to _prove_ it to him.

“Show me.” It’s not a question. She isn’t asking it of him.

His eyes grow wide. “What?”

“Show me,” she repeats. “I want to see properly.”

“Chloe… I…” he squeezes his eyes shut, his face creasing as he shakes his head. “I’m a monster. My other face is… _horrific_. I-I don’t want to scare you….”

She takes his face in her hands, once again guiding him to look at her. “You’re _not_ a monster, Lucifer. I _Love_ you. All of you. Including your Devil face _and_ your wings. They’re part of you and _you_ don’t scare me.”

He swallows hard. Conflict swirls in his eyes. “A-are you sure?”

“Yes.” She replies without missing a beat.

He nods silently and turns on his stool to face her fully. Fear still resides in the dark depths of his eyes. For a moment he just sits, taking a shaky breath, steeling himself. She waits patiently, mentally preparing herself for what she knows she’s about to see.

Then it happens. His human exterior fades away revealing the pitted, burnt flesh beneath. It looks red raw. Exactly the same as the last time she’d seen it. Like an open wound. She wonders if it hurts like one.

The thought makes her heart ache.

He sits completely still, eyes wide, looking ready to flee as her eyes take in all the details of his uneven skin. Fire flickers in his eyes, always shifting. It’s almost mesmerising.

When she looks at him, she doesn’t see a monster.

Not at all.

She sees a victim.

How could anyone do this to him? The thought of _God_ —a supposed benevolent being— _allowing_ this to happen… it’s just… it makes her sick.

She reaches out slowly, not wanting to spook him and touches his cheek. It’s warm. Warmer than his other face.

He looks stunned as her fingers move over the harsh terrain that is his face. Like he can’t comprehend that anyone can look at him let alone _touch_ him.

“I love you,” she tells him again, just in case he’d forgotten.

“Chloe…” he breathes the word so quietly, so reverentially that she’s not even sure that he meant to.

He inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as she pulls his forehead down to rest on hers, her hands holding his now bare head.

“I love _all_ of you, Lucifer. Always.”

Their breath mingles in the small space between them for a few long moments before she finally speaks again.

“Can I see them?”

His eyes snap open again. “I’m afraid they aren’t that nice to look at either at the moment, Love.” His gaze falls to the floor as he pulls away from her. His human face starts to fade back, covering the angry, red flesh.

“Leave it,” she says, reaching out to him once again. He opens his mouth to protest but he faulters after she gives him a stern look. “And I don’t care. I want to see, if you’re okay with showing me that is.”

It’s hard to tell his expressions on the unfamiliar face, but he looks thoughtful for a moment before agreeing. “Okay.” He glances around, before standing up and moving away from the counter. “Might want to stay back though.”

She nods silently, not really knowing what to expect. She hadn’t really seen them that day before she’d blacked out. She has an idea of what they look like from the fake pair that she’d seen at the auction. When he rolls his shoulders though, she realises that they are nothing compared to the glory of the real thing.

They unfurl, stretching out as much as the space will allow. They are massive. Must be at least ten foot long each.

And they seem to glow. A soft, ethereal light radiating from them. Somehow, just looking at them makes her feel… _good._

The more she looks though, the more she notices the damage. Chunks of missing feathers. The skin beneath red with obviously still healing wounds. Some feathers are ruffled, others broken in half or barely hanging on.

Worst of all though, the top of one of them is bloodied from a nowhere near healed wound. It still oozes blood into the pristine white feathers. She can’t be sure, but something looks… wrong. _Broken_ maybe.

They quiver slightly as she steps closer to him.

“Lucifer…” she says softly. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Please don’t blame yourself Chloe.”

She scans over them one last time before meeting his fiery gaze. The pain in his face is obvious despite her being unfamiliar with it. “Is there anything I can do? To help you I mean.”

He shakes his head. She’s sure his lip trembles. “No. This…” his voice shakes, “this is enough. You just… _being_ here.”

“Okay.”

She can do that. Just be here for him. Maybe she can start making up for all the times when she wasn’t.

Carefully, she wraps her arms around his middle and rests her head against his. He melts into her, his head slumping to rest on her shoulder as his arms— and _wings,_ she notes— wrap around her.

And he sobs.

Hot tears splash against her skin. His body shaking as he cries. She holds him tight for as long as he needs.

Because, finally, she’s seen all of him.

The Devil, the Angel and the man.

 

~

 

After a stop at her place to get a change of clothes, they head to the precinct.

She hopes that they’ll catch a break today, that someone will have spotted one of the Saroyan brothers. Lucifer seems overly confident that they will. Upon arrival though, she’s disappointed to find that the B.O.L.O has turned up nothing solid yet.

“Don’t worry, Detective,” Lucifer says with a cheery grin, “they can’t hide for long.”

She hums. “I don’t know, they’ve avoided being arrested for this long.”

“But _we_ haven’t been after them before,” he says with a feral grin, like a cat sneaking up behind a bird unnoticed.

Despite his confidence, she continues combing through the files and social media accounts that make up Maria’s life. A bolt of sadness shoots through her. How sad it is to see a person’s entire life reduced to nothing more than a stack of papers and a collection of selfies with silly dog ear filters on.

Meanwhile Lucifer sits beside her playing one of those colourful match three games on his phone, the files she’d handed him to look over sitting untouched on the desk. At least it isn’t _Sex Words with Friends_ again.

“Lucifer,” she says flatly, “You said you’d help me with this.”

He looks up from his phone. “No. I said,” he raises a finger to her, “I would help if we _must_ look over them again but, there’s no need. I assure you, Detective, it’s only a matter of time now.”

She narrows her eyes, “What are yo—”

Before she can even ask what he’s up to she’s interrupted by the sound of screaming. The precinct stills, and everyone looks to the stairs where Maze appears from around the corner, dragging their lead suspect’s brother, Nikolai Saroyan, by his twisted arm. He stumbles which serves to make Maze twist his arm further, eliciting yelps from the man. She pulls him down the stairs and approaches her desk, dropping him at Lucifer’s feet like a sack of potatoes.

“Here’s the human scumbag you asked for,” she says, completely blasé as if she hadn’t just dragged a man twice her size kicking and screaming through the precinct.

“Excellent! Well done Maze!” Lucifer replies in a sing song tone as he grabs Nikolai by the arm and pulls him to his feet.

Chloe can only stare, mouth agape, as all her words vanish from her mind.

“Detective? Shall we get down to it then?” He says with a feral hunger in his eyes, looking at Nikolai like he’s a juicy steak that he can’t wait to get his teeth into. Nikolai whimpers, shying away from Lucifer. “Oh, stop crying, you ponce. Come on.” He drags him over to the interrogation room with Chloe following closely behind.

 

“So, tell us, Nikolai, did you kill Maria Kandarian?” Chloe questions him with steely resolve.

The man shakes his head rapidly. “No! I didn’t kill Maria, okay? I liked Maria!”

“Are you sure about that? Are you sure that you didn’t find out that she was stealing from you and your brother’s business and decided to put a stop to it?”

“What?! Maria was stealing from us? She wouldn’t do that, she was too good for all that! You have to believe me,” he slams his palms on the cold metal table. “I didn’t kill Maria!”

Time to change direction.

“Where’s your brother, Samvel?”

“No, he didn’t do this either. I’m telling you! You’re wasting your time! Him and Maria, they were in love but, she was too good, wasn’t meant for this life. She deserved the world….”

She spares a sideways glance at Lucifer, nodding. He takes the cue and rises from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table either side of Nikolai and leaning in close. It’s like watching a predator stalk its prey, a wolf circling a defenceless rabbit. Nikolai doesn’t stand a chance.

“Enough of this. Tell me,” Lucifer purrs, his voice dropping to a deep insidious tone, “did you desire Maria gone?

The other man squirms in his chair under The Devil’s intense, soul-piercing glare. He squeezes his eyes shut, turning away in a futile attempt to escape Lucifer’s pull.

He inches closer. “Come on, Nikolai, you can tell me,” he purrs, his voice smooth as velvet.

Nikolai shakes his head, his eyes still squeezed tightly shut, the muscles in his neck straining as he desperately tries to put as much space between him and lucifer as possible, with little success.

Lucifer presses further, leaning in almost impossibly close. “Did you kill Maria?”

Nikolai yelps, breaking under Lucifer’s spell, jumping in his seat. “I-I just wanted my brother to be happy! I _wouldn’t hurt him_!”

“Oh.” Lucifer, straightens, looking disappointed that the man in front of them doesn’t seem to have any motive to be the killer.

“Where’s your brother? We still want to talk to him. Even if what you say is true and he didn’t kill Maria, it may help find out who did,” Chloe tries to reason with him. He looks at her with what she can only describe as terror in his eyes. He bites his lip, his knuckles white as he clenches them, a bead of sweat drips from his forehead. Lucifer leans into him menacingly, looking at him like it might be fun to tear his arms and legs off just to make him speak.

“Don’t you _desire_ Maria’s killer to be apprehended?”

Nikolai grinds his teeth and swallows, his breathing growing rapid. He’s _terrified_ by Lucifer.

Lucifer flashes him another predatory grin that’s all teeth. “Come on, Nik….”

Nikolai snaps. “Okay, okay! I’ll tell you just please, get him away from me,” he gestures to Lucifer who backs away, leaning against the back wall, draped in shadows. “I don’t know where he is exactly, but I know where he will be.”

Nikolai gives up the information of the meet his brother is supposed to be at tomorrow at noon. Afterwards he slumps in his chair, staring at the wall in a catatonic stupor, occasionally mumbling “why?” or “what just happened?” to himself repeatedly. Uniformed officers enter the room and drag him away to holding and they set about making arrangements to pick Samvel up.

 

After she’s made the necessary arrangements, she slides into the break room, where Lucifer appears to be having a disagreement with the vending machine. Upon hearing the door click shut, he turns to face her with a cheery grin. “Ah! Detective, don’t suppose you’ve got change for a hundy?”

She smiles stepping closer to him and, after a quick check over her shoulder to make sure that no one can see them, she places both her hands flat against his chest, pushing him backwards slightly until he hits the face of the vending machine with a soft thud. He grins with that adorable surprised expression, eyes bursting alight with pride as he anticipates her breaking the rule she’d set in place for them.

“Thank you,” she whispers softly, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his lips. Soft but, by no means impassionate. She pours her heart into the delicate kiss, desperately trying to impart how much he means to her through it. For a second, they are not two people but one, their very souls intertwined. It’s an exhilarating feeling that she never wants to be without. She hears his breath hitch in his throat and she pulls away, both dizzied by the deep emotions they had just shared.

She gazes into his dark eyes, they’re an abyss and she’s falling head over heels into them. They are silent for a moment, both catching their breath.

“I always keep my word, Detective,” he says softly, bringing his hand up to touch her cheek. His touch feels like fire, leaving her skin tingling beneath his fingers.

“I know.” She smiles and wraps her fingers around his hand. “Here,” she pulls five dollars from her pocket and offers it to him. A flash of confusion crosses his face. “For the vending machine,” she clarifies. It’s good to know that a kiss like that could clear all coherent thought from his head.

He eyes the fiver in her hand, hesitant to take it. She thrusts it closer to him, but his apprehension just grows stronger.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you want in return?” He asks.

Seriously? “ _Lucifer,_ it’s five dollars. I just want you to have your snack. Just take it!” She waves the note in front of his face.

“Are you sure?”

Good God he can be dense. “Yes! You buy me coffee all the time and ask for nothing in return, how is this different?”

“I don’t suppose it is….”

He _finally_ takes it, with a sparkle of appreciation in his eyes and quickly thanks her, turning to the machine, retrieving a packet of cool ranch puffs.

She wonders how anyone can have as little understanding of doing something simply because you care for someone, and not to get something out of it. Then again, he is The Devil. It brings her great sorrow to think how long he must have lived without knowing such a simple thing as affection from another. No longer though. She looks at the sweet man, munching on his chips and vows that he won’t have to live without much longer, for he is hers and she knows he deserves all the care and affection she can muster.

 

~

 

After work, they pick Trixie up from school and she drives them all back to her place, Lucifer having left the Corvette there this morning in favour of riding with her. Trixie chatters the entire way home about her day and her classmates and how everybody thinks that Nathan likes her, but she doesn’t like him. Lucifer takes a keen interest and it warms her heart. He even seems to know the names and social statuses of all the other children in her class and occasionally offers his thoughts on the playground politics.

She soon finds herself pulling into the apartment complex.

“Stay for dinner?” She asks him as they all pile out of the car. He nods and is promptly dragged off by the hand into the house by Trixie.

She makes lasagne and veg for dinner. Well not _make_ so much as warm up from frozen. Lucifer would have made it from scratch, but over the years she’s found she not only doesn’t have the skills to make things from scratch but neither the time nor patience for it. The frozen stuff tastes better than if she had made it herself, if she’s honest.

They eat, and they engage in light conversation, no talk of work and it’s nice. It’s comforting. For the first time in a long time she feels content. Content that everything is how it should be. With her daughter and her wayward angel beside her she feels on top of the world.

 

After dinner they play a friendly game of _Scrabble_. Lucifer plays obscure words that he insists are real and Trixie calls him out, demanding an explanation and several examples for each one. In the end, Lucifer wins because, of course the immortal with a library as big as her living room wins the word game. Chloe comes second, followed closely by Trixie who surprisingly doesn’t sulk at coming last but, asks Lucifer if he can teach her lots of fancy words. He chuckles and agrees, telling her he will teach her a new word every day.

She puts Trixie to bed. The game had lasted longer than she thought it would, so she skips the bedtime story. They talk for a while about their day. Trixie tells her that her friend Katie had just been to Disneyland.

“There’s a new ride!” she explains, excitedly. “Can we go Mommy, pretty pleeeaase?”

She laughs at her daughter’s puppy dog eyes. It’s hard to resist when she looks at her like that, but she knows she can’t really afford it right now and doesn’t want to get her hopes up. “I don’t know, Baby. It’s a lot of money.”

Seeing her daughter disappointed never sits well with her. She sighs adding, “maybe.” Her birthday is coming up in a couple of months, maybe they could go for that?

“Mommy?” The girl asks sleepily, snuggling further under her covers.

“Yes Monkey?”

She yawns, rubbing her eyes. “Is Lucifer going to move in with us? He’s here all the time anyway.”

Chloe smiles. She supposes it’s true, he is here a lot these days.

“Maybe someday, Monkey. What word did Lucifer teach you?” she says diverting the conversation away from her newly forming relationship.

Her little face scrunches up as she tries to remember the no doubt complicated word he’d taught her. “Sub— Fuse— Skk,” she says, struggling with each syllable.

“Subfusc?”

She nods, looking pleased that she had remembered.

“It means dark and gloomy!”

“That’s amazing Monkey, good job!” She kisses the yawning girl on the forehead as her eyes droop.

“I love you Mommy,” she says almost asleep now, “and Lucifer,” she adds as she drifts off into a pleasant slumber.

“I love you too, Baby.”

 

~

 

The next day, they wait outside the warehouse that Nikolai had told them his brother would be at. It’s still almost an hour before he’s supposed to show up, but they wait, just in case.

Chloe zones in and out hearing parts of the conversation that Lucifer is mostly having with himself.

“—And no, Robbie and I did not make a deal at the crossroads. He just happened to be an exceptionally talented musician, and maybe even more so in bed,” he says, waggling his eyebrows.

She blinks, catching the back end of what he had just said, “Robbie as in Robert Johnson?”

“Yes.”

“You _slept with_ Robert Johnson,” she says in a disbelieving tone.

“Of course, where else do you think he got his bloody crossroad story from? There is some truth to it, mind. The tavern we first met at was called ‘ _The Crossroads’.”_

Right. Sometimes she has to remind herself that her partner is _the literal Devil._ When he acts like a twelve-year-old with A.D.D the majority of the time, it’s quite easy to forget that fact.

“And I had nothing to do with the other 27 Club members’ deaths. It’s not my fault some people can’t handle their heroin,” he says nonchalantly and then adds, “and no I didn’t make them do it.”

She has no idea how they got onto this topic of conversation but then again, she mostly never does when it’s Lucifer speaking. She’s sure that she could let him talk and he would keep going for days without being interrupted. Not that she isn’t glad for the company on the long stakeouts her job often requires. She does worry though, that enabling Lucifer’s… _Lucifer-ness_ and knowing the things that he says are true might cause people to start questioning her sanity. Maybe. She could always just tell people she works within his metaphors like Doctor Linda had for so long. It seemed to work well for her.

 

Lucifer continues to talk, and she says very little back, most of her focus trained on the warehouse and surrounding area in the hope that at any minute now Samvel will show up. She checks the time and is irritated to see that it’s almost a half hour since he should have shown up. She taps the steering wheel in frustration, worrying her lip between her teeth.

“Maybe Nikolai was lying? Trying to divert our attention so that his brother could escape?”

Lucifer considers this for a moment before confidently replying. “No. He wasn’t lying. I can always tell when humans are lying.”

She hums. “Always? Is that like one of your… uh, powers?”

“I suppose you could say that. To draw out desire is to draw out the truth so naturally it’s very easy for me to spot a lie, and for the record,” he says waving his hand in the space between them, “you are a terrible liar. You remember that time you tried to convince me that there had been a _beach murder?_ ”

He chuckles, and she feels heat rush to her cheeks.

That was so stupid, and she still feels awful about it. It was one of the only times she had ever lied to Lucifer and the worst part was that she hadn’t fooled anyone. So much for her many years training to be an actor.

“That was stupid, okay? I should never have said that. I should have just told you the truth from the beginning.”

She’d already apologised at the time and explained to him, but it hadn’t made her feel much better about it. Lying isn’t a thing she could ever feel comfortable doing, but it seems like an inevitability, a part of being human. Maybe not big lies, but everyone tells a white lie every now and again, right?

His candour is one of the things she admires most about Lucifer. Even when telling the truth makes people think that he’s crazy he still does it. And maybe he bluffs or tells half truths from time to time but, he seems to have gotten better with those. At least she thinks he has, if what he said that night after he came back from Vegas was true. The part that she had been pretending to be asleep for.

“Detective!” Lucifer derails her train of thought, pointing out the windshield as a black car pulls up in front of the warehouse and a man she recognises from the pictures as Samvel, steps out of the driver’s side.

Finally.

“Is there anyone in the car with him?”

Lucifer leans forward slightly, the seat creaking beneath him. “Not that I can tell, he appears to be alone.”

Perfect.

“Let’s go,” she says, pulling the keys from the ignition and stepping out of the car. Her hand automatically goes to touch the firearm at her side, her cop instincts kicking in.

Samvel is standing beside his car, engaging in a very animated conversation on his phone. He doesn’t notice the pair approaching immediately, he seems to be distracted by the phone call.

Once they are close enough, Chloe pushes her jacket aside making her badge visible and shouts, “Samvel Saroyan, LAPD, put the phone down. Hands where I can see them.”

Panic spreads across the man’s face like a wildfire. He glances about wildly like he’s about to make a run for it.

“Don’t bother trying to run Samvel, you won’t get away.” She’d arranged to have back up in the area just in case it was necessary. “We just want to talk.”

Sam grits his teeth, standing his ground. “I don’t have anything to say.”

Her grip on her gun tightens as his hands remain by his side, twitching by his pockets.

“Not even about Maria?”

His brow furrows. “Maria? What about Maria?”

“She was murdered.”

The colour drains from his face, his hands shaking frantically. “No. She can’t be.”

“Come quietly, Samvel, we don’t have to make this difficult.”

He isn’t listening to her, he’s staring off into the distance, shaking his head and murmuring to himself. She starts taking steps towards him, her hand tense and ready to draw her weapon. Her gaze is fixed on him, but she can hear Lucifer close behind her.

“NO!” He roars balling his hands into fists and taking a wobbly step backwards. “She can’t be dead.”

She stops, trying to advance any further seems like a fruitless venture. “We know she was involved in you and your brother’s business, Sam.”

“What? No! Maria was too good for that. I didn’t want her near any of it.” He looks distressed.

“We found the drugs in her room, was she stealing from you? Is that why you killed her?”

“NO! I DIDN’T KILL HER! I COULDN’T, I— I loved her.”

Silence falls between them, tension hanging heavy in the air, like a guitar string pulled almost to the point a breaking.

“Come quietly, Sam.”

And then the string snaps.

Like a volcano erupting, he bursts with fiery anger, his face contorting with rage and turning a stark shade of red.

“I DIDN’T KILL HER! I’LL SHOW YOU!”

And then it’s all a blur, as if everything is happening at once. She can see what is about to happen and is powerless to stop it. Sam reaches into his inside jacket pocket. Chloe draws her weapon in a flash as she sees the butt of his gun emerge. Lucifer cries out her name. She feels his body collide with hers, pushing her out of Sam’s firing line. Her finger tenses with the impact, squeezing the trigger and a gunshot rings out, cutting through the air like a knife through butter.

Chloe and Lucifer fall into a pile on the ground and through the tumble she sees Sam falling backwards.

Panic takes over, her hands violently shaking as she tries to right herself. Lucifer’s strong hands grip her shoulders but, she can’t focus on his face.

She manages to sit up, coming back to herself somewhat as Lucifer kneels beside her, his face creased in concern.

“Detective?” His hand touches the top of hers, spreading warmth over her skin.

“I’m fine,” she climbs to her feet taking his hand as he offers her support and retrieves her gun from the kerb where it landed.

Sam lies on the floor, unmoving. She approaches him with caution. Her shot hit him in the chest, blood pools around him, bright scarlet against the dull concrete. She kneels beside him and checks for a pulse but only feels a faint thump. Barely anything. One… two… and then nothing.

He’s gone and there’s nothing anyone can do to help him now.

She turns to Lucifer and shakes her head.

Holstering her gun, she pulls out a pair of blue latex gloves from her back pocket, stretches them and snaps them on with relative ease. She lifts his jacket, reaching inside and pulls out the gun holding it up in the air for Lucifer to see.

“Nine-mil.” Just like the one that Maria was killed with. A common calibre but maybe ballistics could get a match on the rounds found at the scene. She’s not sure she believes that he did kill her though. It just doesn’t add up.

She pulls out something else from his pocket.

Paper. No. Photographs. A couple are soaked with blood, but she peels them away revealing the protected pictures beneath. Pictures of Sam and Maria. They look so happy. One shows them at the park, taken from an awkward angle, showing them kissing from the side, the light in the background frames their figures. Another shows them at the beach in each other’s arms. A phantom pain grips her as she thinks of herself and Lucifer at the beach. How upset Sam had been. He truly did love Maria. That much was clear. She can’t bear the thought of herself being in his situation. Tears sting in her eyes as she pushes the thought down.

She hears Lucifer’s footsteps approaching behind her. “Detective? What is it?” He asks, leaning over her. “Oh.” He falls silent after seeing the pictures.

Sirens wail in the distance. That would be the patrol cars she had put in the area responding to the gunshot. Within minutes they arrive. She tells them to secure the scene, hands them Sam’s weapon and the photographs to bag and tag.

 

Later that evening, she’s finally done with all the follow up protocol that occurs after a shooting. She’s handed over her weapon for processing, given her statement and been put on administrative leave until further notice. There would be an investigation into the shooting, but she doubts they will look too closely into it. After all, Sam had an open arrest warrant, was armed, ready to fire and had resisted arrest.

She slumps into the passenger side of her car and allows Lucifer to drive her home. She’s in a daze, no fit state to be driving and he can see it. She’s just grateful for his company.

The stress of the day feels heavy on her shoulders. She killed a man. She’s killed in the line of duty before, but it will never get easier. Never. It will always leave a stain upon her soul. The memories may fade, and the pain may dull but she will never forgive herself for each and every one of them. Even if she had no choice. Because she knows that when someone dies it spreads a wake of destruction and heartache in its path like a tsunami tearing through the loved ones of the victim. Even if the person had done wrong they are still someone’s son, daughter, brother, sister, boyfriend…. She glances at Lucifer who drives with a subdued expression. He must catch her staring because he suddenly breaks the silence.

“You can’t blame yourself,” he says quietly, as if he’d read her mind, “you have to let go of the guilt.”

 _How._ How could she? She knows what pain she’s caused someone out there. She knows because she’s been there. Having a family member torn from your life…. It isn’t something she will ever forget and now she can never forgive herself for inflicting that on someone else.

“I can’t.”

His eyes flicker with an unexpected intensity as the light from passing streetlamps catches them. “ _You must.”_ His voice takes on a hint of desperation.

How can he even ask that of her? Perhaps he was affected by what had happened more than she’d realised.

“ _Lucifer—”_

“You _must_ allow yourself forgiveness, _Chloe._ I can’t let you—”

“How?!” She snaps at him, “how _exactly_ am I supposed to just let it go, Lucifer?”

His hands tense on the steering wheel. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just, I can’t allow you to feel guilty.”

“You can’t _allow me?!”_

What the _Hell_ is that even supposed to mean?

The car comes to a halt at the lights and he turns to her with a glimmer of sadness in his eyes. “When humans die, where you go depends upon how you’ve lived. If you feel guilty,” he hesitates, swallowing, “you go to Hell where that guilt is used to torture you for the rest of eternity.”

The silence that falls between them is almost deafening. The light changes and the engine roars back into life. She hears Lucifer say, barely a whisper, “you don’t deserve that.”

 

His words replay in her mind the whole ride back. The guilt eats away at her soul. She can’t just forget that. Can’t just forgive herself. For who would she be if she didn’t feel guilt. No better than serial killers and psychopaths. But Lucifer’s words haunt her. _You don’t deserve that._ Maybe she does though. She doesn’t know anymore. What she does know is that she’s not dead yet and she has a daughter to look after and a job to do. She can’t let her guilt consume her completely, but she can’t let it go either. This is how it has to be. If she has to go to Hell for that in the end, then so be it.

They arrive back at her place and she relieves the sitter that she’d managed to sort out, thanking her for picking Trixie up from school on such short notice. Trixie rushes out of her room at the sound of her voice, enveloping her in a huge hug. She smiles down at the girl, pushing the thoughts of the day as far from the front of her mind as she can and wraps her arms around her.

“You should be in bed, you little rascal!”

“I can’t sleep when you’re not here, Mommy.”

Her heart melts. “I know Trixie-Babe, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she says as she pulls herself away from her mom, setting her sights on Lucifer who lingers by the breakfast bar. A panicked look crosses his face as she barrels into his legs at full speed. He awkwardly pats her on the head and she giggles into his shirt.

“Come on Monkey, lets get you in bed,” she says, taking her hand and prying her away from Lucifer.

She offers little resistance, yawning and rubbing her eyes. It’s way past her bed time for a school night and Chloe isn’t sure how she’s managed to stay awake for so long.

 

After tucking Trixie in she returns to the kitchen where Lucifer stands, talking on the phone to someone.

“Ah yes, thank you Bob. Bye now,” he says ending the call.

“What was that?”

He smiles. “Just someone that owes me a favour.”

“Right.” She steps closer to him and touches his arm. “Look, I’m sorry about snapping at you earlier. I Didn’t mean to, it’s just been a stressful day.”

“There’s no need to apologise, Love.” She wraps her arms around him and he pulls her head into his chest with his warm hands. She breathes a little easier in his embrace, she feels she can let go. Tears sting her eyes as she finally lets them flow. She’s soaking his shirt but, he doesn’t complain, just holds her tighter as she’d held him. He’s a warm, reassuring presence anchoring her and she doesn’t know what she’d do without him.

 

~

 

Nikolai sits, alone and empty. The loss of his brother heavy on his shoulders. If only his Sammie hadn’t have been so stupid. If he’d have let it go. He’d probably still be here. He loved his brother. All he ever wanted was for him to be happy. He never meant for this to happen. He had loved Maria with all of his heart and when Nikolai had found out that she’d been cheating on him, well… he couldn’t stand for it. No one hurt his brother. He’d confronted her and things had gotten heated. He never meant to kill her. He just wanted to protect Sammie. Wanted him to be happy.

Now he’s dead and Nikolai is alone. For the first time in his life, he is completely alone. He’d always had Sammie. When they been young, their parents had left them to fend for themselves. They’d always looked out for one another. Now he has no one.

He’s lost his brother, his everything and it hurts. It hurts so much. He doesn’t want to feel anymore. He wants to be numb. The cocaine should help with that, he thinks as he cuts a couple of lines with a razor.

“Is that what you really want to be doing?”

His hand goes to his gun as he looks up, watching the shadows for the source of the voice. “Who said that?”

He rises from his seat a little, eyes darting around the room, senses on high alert.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” the voice says. He can’t seem to locate the direction the voice is coming from, it seems to be all around him, suffocating. “No, quite the opposite in fact. I’m here to help you, Nikolai.”

The voice has a distinctive accent, maybe British?

“Where are you, man? Show yourself,” he shouts, whirling around and pulling his Glock.

“Very well, but you should know that your weapon doesn’t scare me, little human.”

The man seems to appear in front of him. Nikolai recognises his face immediately, though something is different about him. “It’s you!” He raises his gun in the other man’s face. He just smirks back.

“I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else, we’ve never met Nikolai.”

Nikolai takes a shaky breath. He’s not sure that he believes what the man is saying. “What do you want?”

“Why, I want to help you of course!” The other man says playfully, all too upbeat for someone staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Help me? With what?”

The other man’s smirk deepens into something sinister, sending a chill down his back. “I want to help you get _justice_ for your brother.”


	7. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer does his best to take Chloe's mind off the shooting. Little does he realise that Nikolai is out for revenge for his brother's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just indulgently fluffy on my part. But then again there's always calm before the storm....
> 
> Title credit goes to Coldplay (yes, I used Coldplay twice. Fight me.)

 

 

That night they sit on the couch in each other’s arms, watching tv, chatting. Anything to take her mind off the stress of the day. His arm wrapped around her shoulder and the line of his body sturdy against hers is comforting. In his arms she just feels _… safe_.

Content.

_At home._

The day’s events weigh heavy on her shoulders, but here, with Lucifer, it’s easier to forget.

At some point she must drift off because the next thing she knows she’s in his arms, being carried to her bed. Her eyes are heavy and her body too drained to protest. She hears a ruffle as he pulls back the covers and gently places her down, pulling the covers back over her. His soft lips gently brush against her forehead for what feels like too short a moment before she hears him turn to leave. She grabs his hand as he does, not quite enough to pull him back to her, but enough to halt him in his tracks. His hand tenses in hers.

If only she weren’t so tired, she’d pull him back for a proper kiss.

“G’ night, Lucifer,” she manages to mumble.

She wants to ask him to stay but sleep grips her, pulling her down into a sweet, dreamless slumber before he’s even left the room.

 

~

 

She wakes feeling refreshed, more so than she would expect after what had happened yesterday. She almost feels guilty for how well she’d slept.

Sunlight streams in through a crack in the curtains, highlighting dust as golden specks dancing in the air as she stretches, turning to the empty space beside her. Through her sleep-fogged brain, she remembers Lucifer leaving. Part of her wishes he’d stayed but, the other part knows that he’s too respectful to stay without her full consent.

She grabs her phone from the nightstand. She has a few minutes before her alarm goes off. Of course, she has no work, but she still needs to take Trixie to school. Opening her messages, she considers texting him, her fingers lingering over the keyboard. Is she being clingy? _God— Or whoever_ — she hopes she isn’t being clingy. It’s just that the absence she feels whenever he’s not here chips away at her, making her heart ache.

It’s stupid, she knows it is. Missing him when he’s not here, even when she’d seen him only a few hours ago. It’s just… she’s never felt like she does when she’s with him. It’s dizzying. Intoxicating. She just can’t imagine her life without him in it.

The alarm on her phone rings, piercing the silence in the room. She quickly hits the snooze button. Almost at the same time a message pops up on her screen.

 

              _Lucifer [07:30]: Good morning, Love._

Does he know what time her alarm is?

 

_Chloe [07:30]: Morning!_

_Chloe [07:30]: Thank you for being here last night. You could have stayed, you know._

_Lucifer [07:31]: Anytime love. I just didn’t like to assume. Besides I had business to take care of early this morning._

_Chloe [07:32]: Oh?_

_Lucifer [07:32]: Nothing to worry about, Darling._

That sets off alarm bells. She can sense that something is up, she’s figured out by now that he evades when he’s trying to hide something. Before she can pry any further another message pops up on her screen.

 

              _Lucifer [07:33]: Are you and the Offspring free tomorrow?_

She frowns at the message.

 

              _Chloe [07:34]: We haven’t got any plans. Why?_

_Lucifer [07:35]: I’d like to take you out._

_Lucifer [07:35]: Only if you want to, of course._

A smile creeps across her face _._

_Chloe [07:36]: I’d love to._

_Lucifer [07:36]: Marvellous! I’ll pick you up at 7am._

_Chloe [07:38]: Sure._

_Chloe [07:38]: Where are we going?_

_Lucifer [07:39]: Now, now Detective wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, would you?_

_Lucifer [07:39]: *Devil emoji*_

Why does he keep doing that? She grumbles but can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth. She hates surprises. But, that’s what she’d said last time and their date had been perfect. Still, being kept in the dark is not fun. Unless there happens to be a tall, dark and handsome man present to lead the way in said darkness she thinks, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

 

              _Chloe [07:44]: Fine. I have to get Trixie to school. Will I see you later?_

_Lucifer [07:45]: Ah. Afraid not, Love. Rather busy day at Lux._

_Chloe [07:46]: Okay, have fun. I have to go, talk later._

_Lucifer [07:46]: Goodbye, Darling._

 

~

 

He shows up on their doorstep at 7:00am on the dot with a huge Cheshire grin plastered on his face. She’s surprised that he actually knocks rather than just barging in like he owns the place like he usually does.

“Good morning.” She punctuates her greeting with a kiss to his lush, pink lips, startling a surprised little noise out of him. Trixie comes running out of her room, colliding with his legs and flinging her little arms around his waist. For the second time that morning she finds herself surprised by him. Not only does he not immediately attempt to pry her away or pat her on the head like a dog, he actually _accepts the hug._ The panic is still evident on his face but, he wraps his arm around her, albeit very awkwardly.

It’s a start though.

After locking up, she follows the pair outside and finds Lucifer leaning against a sleek silver Aston Martin. She recognises the car immediately as the DB5, one of James Bond’s famous cars. Leaning casually but with grace in his grey suit and crisp white shirt, adjusting his cufflinks, he kind of looks like he could be James Bond.

“Didn’t realise you were a Bond fan,” she says with a smile, walking around the car. She isn’t one for fancy cars but, even she has to admit it’s a beautiful. She chuckles at the white California Lipstick plate with the letters “MRNGSTAR” embossed on it.

He shrugs, standing up to his full height. “I’m just a bit partial to sixties vintage cars.”

“You have more?”

Nodding, he opens the passenger side door, exposing the rich, red leather interior, and pulls the seat forward allowing access to the back. “I’ll have to give you a tour of the garage someday.”

“I’d like that.” She is curious to see just how many ludicrously expensive cars he owns.

She offers to take them in her car but, he insists on driving, stating that he brought the five-seater especially so that there would be room for the Spawn. She tries to argue with him on that case. Not that she doesn’t trust his skills behind the wheel it’s just that he isn’t particularly fond of speed limits, seeing them as a suggestion that he graciously ignores.

She doesn’t usually mind, after more than a year of occasionally letting him drive, she’d gotten used to the stomach-churning way he expertly weaves through traffic at double the speed limit.

_Sort of._

But her daughter is in the car now and no matter how much she trusts him or how much he claims that driving is easy compared to flying, she simply can’t allow herself to take that risk. Not with Trixie. He’s still adamant on driving after she tells him no a handful of times. She sighs and figures that she isn’t going to win this one. He can be so stubborn. So, she settles on letting him, on the condition that he doesn’t exceed the speed limit. He accepts easily, giving her his word that he shall, “ _abide by the silly human rules even though it truly isn’t necessary, if it will make you happy.”_

He keeps his word, not going so much as a kilometre over the speed limit.

She stares out the window as they make their way to wherever they’re going. Her phone buzzes. It’s a message from Dan telling her that Samvel’s brother, Nikolai, has been released on bail.

Lucifer glances at her with a quizzical look.

“It’s Dan. Nikolai Saroyan is out on bail. They closed the case, pinning it on Sam.”

“It’s not your case anymore and you aren’t supposed to be working,” Lucifer states, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him.

She sighs. “I know. It just doesn’t feel right. They’ve made a mistake, I’m sure of it.”

“I’m sure the Douche is quite capable of making the proper arrest, Detective.”

He’s probably right. Even if he isn’t, there isn’t much she can do about it now.

She stares back out of the window, wondering where he’s taking them. Trixie fidgets in the back seat and bombards Lucifer with an abundance of guesses. He says nothing, gesturing placing a lock on his mouth and throwing away the key but, he chuckles at some of her wilder suggestions. Watching him laugh from the passenger seat she can see uncertainty in his face. If she didn’t know better she’d say he were _nervous._ As he drives though she begins to realise the direction he’s heading in and an idea of where he’s going forms in her mind.

If it’s true she can’t believe it.

He can’t have.

He just can’t.

But it is true.

“How did you know?” She narrows her eyes and turns to Trixie, “did you ask Lucifer—”

“I assure you, Detective, the Spawn did nothing of the sort.” He pauses looking slightly sheepish and adds, “I might have overheard your conversation the other night.”

She frowns at him, her eyebrows creasing. How could he have heard them talking in Trixie’s room, she could have sworn they were speaking no louder than a whisper.

He sees her trying to figure it out and looks apologetic, offering a half-shrug he says, “celestial hearing, as it were.”

Celestial hearing?

She wonders what else he’d heard that he hadn’t meant to….

Trixie hasn’t cottoned on yet to where they are going, instead choosing to bug Lucifer with questions about his other angelic powers. It occurs to her that Trixie had always believed Lucifer is who he says he is even from the very first time they’d met. She feels like she should talk to her about his nature, but if she already believes him what is the point? Would she grow out of her childhood beliefs and think that he was just a delusional man that thinks himself the Devil? Perhaps.

She files the thought away to discuss with Lucifer at a later date. After all, it isn’t an immediate problem.

The girl suddenly squeals and begins to jump up and down in the back seat as much as the seat belt will let her. Lucifer pales at the commotion, already looking like he’s regretting this trip.

They drive under the massive sign that marks the entrance to Disneyland.

“You didn’t have to do this, Lucifer.”

He offers her a wan smile. “I know.”

Trixie vibrates with excitement, talking about all the rides they are going to go on and how much fun they are going to have.

Oddly, he navigates them away from the main entrance and around to a back area until they reach what looks like a private parking lot outside a building with a golden Mickey Mouse head emblazed on the front of it. 

“Lucifer, where are you going? This isn’t the entrance.”

He parks up at the front of the building. “Yes, it is,” he says as he gets out of the car without giving further explanation. Trixie practically leaps out after him and flings her arms around his middle, putting a great deal of effort into squeezing him as hard as she can. Chloe follows close behind, chuckling to herself at Lucifer’s distress as he tries to pry the girl away from him.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” Trixie squeals with delight.

“Yes, child. You’re welcome…. Kindly release me.” The request only succeeds to make her squeeze tighter. He throws a pleading glance in Chloe’s direction.

“Don’t look at me. You’ll never get rid of her now.” She snorts when a look of dread washes over his features, more akin to a man sentenced to death or life in prison.

He pats her head and tries to step away, but she stays steadfast, stuck to him. He opens his mouth, glancing between the child and Chloe, and then closes it again, desperately looking for a way out.

“Baby stop torturing Lucifer,” Chloe says, deciding to take pity on the Devil. The girl shakes her head against him to which Lucifer looks horrified, as if no one can save him from this terrible fate. “Hm. I’ll just go in without you then and leave you two here,” she adds, starting to walk away.

The girl immediately releases Lucifer and runs to her, taking her hand. “No!”

Chloe looks at Lucifer who breathes a sigh of relief and straightens out his jacket before following half a step behind them.

Before they reach the building, a dark-haired man dressed in a suit and tie comes out to greet them.

“Ah! Mister Morningstar! Welcome,” he says with an overly cheery smile. “Here are your badges,” he hands Lucifer a lanyard with a shiny black badge and the Mickey Mouse head in gold on it. Lucifer takes the badge giving the man his thanks and stuffs it into his inside pocket. The man bends down to Trixie next, “and who is this little princess?”

“My name is Beatrice, but everyone calls me Trixie!” The girl beams excitedly at him.

“Princess Trixie,” he bows his head and holds out the badge in front of him, “may I?”

Trixie bows her head and allows the man to place the lanyard around her neck. Finally, he stands turning to Chloe. “Ah! Here you are Mrs Morningstar.” He hands her the badge.

_Mrs. Morningstar?!_

Lucifer shoots her a wide grin, puffing his chest out a little.

“Uh, no. We aren’t married,” she quickly corrects the man. “Chloe. _Decker_.”

A regretful look washes over his face. “My deepest apologies!” He gives a nervous chuckle, “it was wrong of me to assume….”

“It’s fine.”

“Right. Anyway, I will be waiting for you in that golf cart to take you to the park when you’re ready,” he says, pointing to the cart in question and quickly steps away.

Chloe studies the card in her hand. There’s no writing on it except a barcode. “Lucifer, what is this?” She asks hanging it around her neck.

“Oh, I called in a favour. They’re VIP cards. No queues or such nonsense,” he says nonchalantly.

“You did a favour for someone that works at Disney?”

He hums, nodding. “The CEO actually, nice fellow. Helped him settle a long-time family feud.”

“Ah.”

She wonders how many people in positions of power owe Lucifer favours. He seems to be able to call upon a favour for almost anything, at anytime he wishes.

Trixie pulls her hand, shuffling impatiently. “Can we go now, pleassseee?”

“Go ahead,” Lucifer says, turning on his heel to head back to the car, “enjoy your day, Detective.”

Where is he going? “Wait. You’re not coming with us?”

He scoffs. “The Devil in Disneyland? Please, don’t make me laugh.”

She can’t help the pang of sadness that rises within her. It was a nice gesture of him to do this for Trixie but, she had been under the assumption that he had wanted to spend the day with them and no matter how nervous she’d been about the surprise, she had been looking forward to it. Looking forward to spending the day with him.

“Oh.” She tries and fails to keep the sadness out of her voice. His face softens, conflict stirring behind those dark eyes.

Trixie looks up at him with her big, brown puppy dog eyes. “Please come with us, Lucifer!”

He looks from the girl and back to Chloe. She can almost see the gears turning in his head. The indecision clear in his stance.

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he fidgets a little with his ring before finally throwing his hands up in the air. “Bloody Hell! Fine. It can’t be that bad, can it?”

 

~

 

Oh, how wrong he had been.

He is in Hell.

No.

This is worse than Hell.

He is surrounded by screaming little, snot nose monsters on sugar highs. Everywhere he looks there are pillocks in great, big, fluffy character costumes or people with too big smiles that look scarily genuine. Upbeat, bouncy music and the smell of confectionary treats fill the air around them.

Everyone is so… _happy._

It’s completely, and utterly nauseating.

But then he sees the big smile on his Detective’s face and in that moment nothing else matters.

A warmth fills his hand and he realises her hand is in his, pulling him down the main street, towards the castle. His heart does a funny little flip in his chest and everything else around him seems to fade away.

All that really matters to him is that she’s happy.

If that means he must suffer this child laden cess-pool, then so be it.

He lets himself be led by the hand until they are standing in front of the castle and the statue of Walt Disney with Mickey Mouse. He can’t take his eyes away from their entwined hands though, his heart soars at the sight and the feel of her skin against his. The casual intimacy of the gesture gives him a light tingly sensation that he’s never experienced before.

“Hey Baby, slow down. Let’s get a picture before we go on anything!” She calls to the child who lets out a huff and ceases her mad dash to the rides.

“Okay but we’re going on splash mountain afterwards,” she says crossing her little arms across her chest.

Chloe laughs. “Whatever you want Monkey.” She releases his hand leaving him bereft, suddenly dragged under by a tide of anxiety with no guiding hand to pull him to the surface.

A Disney photographer approaches them with a smile and offers to take their picture, telling her that he can scan her card and send them directly to her phone.

Lucifer stands, watching as she puts her arm around the child’s shoulders, both of them smiling with delight.

“Come on Lucifer, get in,” she calls to him, beckoning him with a wave of her hand.

He looks around for a moment, confused. Why would she want him in a family picture?

“Me?” He says pointing to himself.

Her smile fades and her face becomes a serious, impassive mask. “No, I’m talking to someone else called _Lucifer,”_ she replies with a flat stare and a look that says _seriously?_

He can only stare back, dumbfounded by her sarcasm.

“Of course, I mean you, Dummy, get over here!”

His feet navigate him as if on autopilot to stand next to the pair, his mind in a daze pondering why on Earth she would want him in the picture. He stands about a foot to the side of them, a sudden awkwardness grasping him like he can’t quite figure out what he’s supposed to do with himself. Does he just stand here? He feels so out of sorts. It’s quite unnerving, he’s usually so full of confidence. Then her arm wraps around his shoulder, pulling him in until the gap between them disappears and her warm body is pressed against his.  

A wonderful, tingling sensations spreads from his chest warming his insides. He finds himself grinning like a fool at the simple gesture.

The man snaps a picture giving them a thumbs up and scans Chloe’s badge.

“Splash mountain now?” The girl jumps up and down in excitement.

“Lead the way Monkey.”

The girl runs ahead, whooping with excitement.

Unease washes over him yet again, what torture is he to endure at the hands of the Little Gremlin? Chloe’s hand grips his once again, dragging him along when he doesn’t immediately follow.

“Dare I ask what _Splash Mountain_ is?” He asks, not sure if he wants to know the answer.

“It’s a log flume, you know, a water ride.”

Oh no. That certainly wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Do you get, um… wet on this ride?”

She looks at him with raised eyebrows, “Lucifer, it’s a water ride, of course you get wet.”

“But, this suit is Prada, Detective,” he whines.

“It’s just water Lucifer, don’t be such a baby,” she replies, playfully. “Besides we can always get you a poncho if you’re that worried about your precious suit.”

“Bloody hell, I am not wearing a poncho. Not again.” Memories of that ridiculous Segway tour float to the surface of his mind. “I refuse to look like a cheap bloody Halloween decoration.”

She sighs. “You don’t have to come on but, Trixie will be disappointed if you don’t. It’s her favourite ride.”

“I’ll just wait for you outside the exit,” he says with a firm nod.

 

When they get to the ride though, the spawn refuses to ride without him, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the entrance.

“Plllleeeeeaaseee Lucifer? It’s not scary, I promise!”

“No child, you and your mother go. I’ll wait right here.”

His heart clenches when the girl’s lip starts to quiver, and her eyes grow wide staring up at him. For some reason, seeing the offspring upset makes him feel… sad? Is that what that is? Somehow, he feels like he’s letting her down and he can’t bare to see it.

Succumbing to this wave of feelings he throws his hands up. “Bloody hell, fine,” he grumbles as the girl pumps her fist in the air and drags him to the entrance with Chloe following close behind, chuckling to herself.

 

The ride isn’t too bad, aside from the dreadfully cheesy tunes coming from the animatronic animals it’s actually quite pleasant. He wonders what he was so worried about as they bob along through the fake forest towards an opening in the side of the mountain. That must be the end, after all they’d been on for quite some time.

For the second time that day, he’s wrong. So, very wrong. It would seem it was becoming a theme of sorts.

The flume approaches the opening and dread courses through his veins as they teeter on the edge of a massive drop. He clutches the side of his chair with a white-knuckle grip.

The Spawn is trying to kill him he’s sure of it.

They plummet over the edge causing his stomach to churn. Sure, he’s used to dropping when he’s flying but somehow this is different. The lack of control over the situation terrifies him. As they fall the Detective and offspring wave their hands in the air like maniacs. How can they possibly let go?! What if they fly out of the death contraption? Horror grips him at the thought of Chloe falling from the vehicle. If she were hurt, he would never forgive himself for bringing them to this horrible place.

His thoughts are abruptly halted when a flash blinds him and they hit the water at the bottom, sending a huge wave towards them that soaks them through.

He grimaces at the cold that seeps through his clothes spreading across his skin and chilling him to the bone.

“Again, again, again!” Trixie shouts happily as they exit the ride.

“Definitely not,” he says as he wipes the water from his face with a grimace and mourns his perfectly styled hair which is now a sodden mess.

“You’ll dry in no time,” Chloe says, seeing his obvious discomfort. “Come on let’s look at the photo.”

“Photo?”

“Yeah, it takes a photo on the way down, isn’t that cool?” Trixie responds.

His reputation is going to be in tatters by the end of today.

 

Chloe laughs at the photo until tears are rolling unchecked down her face and she has to stop to catch her breath. Lucifer stares indignantly back at her.

“We _are not_ doing that again,” he grumbles.

“I’m sorry,” she says, placing her hand on his forearm and giving it a gentle squeeze. An action that might have been comforting had she not just spent the last five minutes laughing at him. “That’s a keeper though. Come on, Grumpy.” Her hand slides down his arm grasping his hand and once again pulling him to what he doesn’t doubt is some other horrible death trap.

“I am not _grumpy!”_ He moans.

“Whatever you say,” she laughs back at him.

 

After Splash Mountain they go on Big Thunder Mountain which he has to admit is not as bad as he’d expected it to be. At least he doesn’t get wet this time. The wind in his hair as the cart speeds around the track is quite pleasant, it gives him a similar feeling to when he’s driving the corvette with the top down. It reminds him of flying. He finds he’s quite disappointed when they pull into the station and the ride is over.  

Chloe spots the smile on his face as they exit the ride.

“Hey,” she says, smiling and tucking her arm into the crook of his, “it’s good to see you smiling.”

Trixie is leading them towards Fantasyland now, she walks a few steps ahead of them with a map in her hands.

His brows furrow at the odd statement. “I smile a lot.”

“You do, but…” she hesitates.

“But what?”

She looks at him with those beautiful blue eyes and he feels like he could drown in them. “You smile but… you’re not always happy. It’s just nice to see you happy, I guess.”

His heart skips a beat. It’s true he often smiles as a mask to cover his true emotions. No one has ever paid enough attention to see beneath it. To see how he truly feels. No one ever cared about him that much.

Not until now.  

 

They reach Fantasyland fairly quickly and Trixie takes them to _The Mad Hatter’s tea party_. Tea cups. They can’t be so bad, can they? It is a children’s ride after all.

The recurring theme of the day sticks though, and he is wrong.

After struggling to fit his large frame into the tiny cup with the Spawn and the Detective, the ride starts moving. At first it spins gently and then the pair start to spin the wheel in the middle, causing them to spin faster and faster. His stomach does summersaults as the world becomes nothing more than a colourful blur around them. Spinning around and around it feels like it’s never going to end. Eventually it does though, and he staggers out of the ride feeling slightly queasy.

“Lucifer? Are you okay? You look a bit pale,” Chloe says, her voice coloured with worry as she leads him over to a bench to sit down.

He waves her off, The Devil is not going to be defeated by a children’s ride. “I’m fine. Let’s just… not do _that_ again.”

 

They drag him around the park for what seems like hours. The only thing that’s getting him through the whole ordeal is Chloe. Her laugh is the most beautiful sound that he’s ever heard, more so than even the greatest heavenly choirs. Seeing her so full of joy makes his heart flutter like a hummingbird in his chest.

It’s on _It’s a Small World_ when he truly thinks he may lose his mind though. The boat ride suddenly grinds to a halt in the middle of a sea of animatronics singing that infuriating song on a loop.

Over and over.

It’s maddening.

A voice over the intercom explains that they are having technical difficulties and the ride will continue as soon as possible.

“Bloody Hell how long are we going to be sat here?” He groans, throwing his head back. “This awful music alone is enough to drive a man insane.”

He glances to his right where Trixie happily hums the tune to herself and grimaces. How can the little spawn _enjoy_ this… this bloody _travesty._

Chloe lays a hand on his leg, startling him. “Just relax, Lucifer, I’m sure it won’t be long.”

He stares at her hand gently resting on his thigh, the heat soaking through his trouser leg. His heart beats a fierce rhythm in his chest. Oh, how the simplest touches from her can send him into a lust-filled daze.

“I can think of something we can do to pass the time,” he says, his voice a low sultry rumble in his chest, waggling his eyebrows at her. “I’m sure no one will notice if we sneak off behind the houses for a little naked rough and tumble.”

“ _Lucifer,”_ she hisses, “there are _children_ on here, including Trixie.”

His eyes glisten in the low light, full of mischief. “Oooh! I didn’t hear a no!”

“ _No.”_

“But Detective,” he purrs, undeterred, “haven’t you ever wondered what it’d be like to just give in to your primal desires? What it would be like to just rip my clothes off and take me right here, in the middle of the theme park?”

“ _NO!”_

He opens his mouth to try and convince her but at the same time the ride stutters back into life, slowly moving them through the water once again.

His grin fades from his face. “Oh well, there’s always next time.”

“No, no, no. That’s never happening,” she says, shaking her head.

He sticks his tongue out at her, crinkling his nose. “Spoil sport.”

She smirks back at him.

 

~

 

Midday creeps around eventually. Lucifer wonders if time actually moves slower in this place. It certainly feels like it does.

Back on main street now, they manoeuvre their way through crowds of people lining the street sides and find a spot to stand. Lucifer takes a bite out of his second hot dog, munching and wondering what exactly everyone is stood around for.

“What’re we waiting for?” He asks, speaking around the food in his mouth.

Chloe eyes him with disbelief. “The parade. How are you still hungry?”

He shrugs taking another bite of his hot dog.

“By the way you’ve got uh… mustard just…” she points to the corner of her own mouth, “there.”

He darts his tongue out of his mouth, attempting to lick the mustard away. Chloe stares at him with a smile on her face and shakes her head with a little chuckle when he fails to get it and instead wipes it away with a napkin.

“It’s starting!” Trixie all but vibrates in excitement.

Colourful floats move in a lively procession down the middle of the street. Some depict scenes that he recognises from watching Disney films with the spawn. Some are simply filled with dancers and people in big character costumes. One float is a great metal monstrosity, a black dragon, its legs and head moving as if it were alive.

Lucifer watches on in interest as the dragon opens its mouth, tilts its head back and breathes a great plume of fire into the sky. The heat from the fireball can be felt even from where they are standing way back in the crowd.

A tug on his sleeve diverts his attention away from the parade and he looks down at the spawn who has her, no doubt, sticky fingers on his poor jacket. The urge to pull his arm away almost overcomes him but he resists when he sees the sad look on her face as she stares up at him.

“What is it?”

“I can’t see,” she says, standing on her tiptoes to try and capture a glimpse of the floats through the sea of people.

“Oh,” he replies, wondering why she is telling him. It’s not his fault she’s such a small human. His brows furrow as the thought of seeing the urchin unhappy seems to make his chest constrict. It’s unsettling. He’s the Devil. He shouldn’t care if the Detective’s Offspring is happy or not but, for some reason, he does. How to help though? “What do you want me to do about it? It’s not my fault you’re short.”

“Lift me up,” she replies, her eyes full of hope.

“ _Excuse me?”_

“Lift me up,” she repeats. “On your shoulders. You’re so tall, I’ll be able to see everything from up there!”

Shocked by her request, he crosses his arms in front of him. “ _Absolutely not._ I am not a _chair,_ Spawn, and you shall not treat me as such.”

She looks up at him with her big brown eyes filling up with tears, her lip trembling. “Please?” She asks him once again only this time her voice is small. _Sad._  

He stares down at her, stupefied by her sudden waterworks. “There’s no need to cry, Child.” Panic fills him. How does he make her stop?

“Baby stop bugging Lucifer. Come here, you can sit on my shoulders,” Chloe intervenes at just the right time, relieving the bubbling panic inside of him.

The girl turns to her mother. “But I don’t want to sit on your shoulders. I want Lucifer,” she moans, tears rolling down her little cheeks.

“No. He doesn’t want you to. You can either stay down there or sit on my shoulders.”

The girl promptly breaks out into full blown sobs.

He’s made the little Hellion cry. It causes a pain in his chest. He has to make it stop.

“Fine!” He finally concedes, “just please stop the weepy waterworks.”

The sobbing immediately ceases and her face lights up as he lifts her little frame above his head with ease and sets her on his shoulders.

“You realise you just got played, right?” Chloe sniggers beside him.

“Oh yes. Clever Little Minx. Takes after her mother, I suppose.” He grins at her. “Oh and, if you could keep this between us. After all, I do have a reputation to maintain.”

“Right,” she smiles, “don’t want people knowing that the Devil’s a big softie?” She pokes him in the side playfully.

“I _am not_ a big softie!” He says, slightly affronted by her accusation.

She giggles and leans into his side, “whatever you say.”

 

After the parade they wander around the shops on Main Street. The Spawn excitedly picking up every stuffed toy and silly trinket in front whilst he and Chloe follow close behind, hand in hand. He loves the feel of her hand in his, it’s like it belongs there. He feels bereft without it. Contentment washes over him.

Despite the locale he has enjoyed their day out though, but he isn’t about to go around telling everyone that. The Devil in _Disneyland,_ of all places. Surely if that got out his reputation would be unsalvageable.

He glances at Chloe beside him, the sight of her smile turns his insides into a gooey mush and causes his heart to skip a beat. How is he so lucky? He doesn’t deserve this, and he knows it. For now, though he will allow himself to bask in his new-found happiness for the Detective. Yes. For her. He can’t possibly upset her.

The little girl squeals as she picks up a large fluffy plushie Stitch and hugs it tight in her little arms. Lucifer had quickly learnt that Stitch is the Urchin’s favourite Disney character. That is after being forced to watch it numerous times.

“Can I have him? Pleeeeeaase? He’s soooo fluffy!”

Chloe opens her mouth, but Lucifer responds before she can say anything.

“Very well, if that ball of fluff is what you desire, it shall be yours.”

“Lucifer, you don’t have to do that. You’ve already done so much.” Chloe looks at him, her eyes sparkling with gratitude, like crystals in the light.

“I insist.”

Trixie hugs the stitch close to her thanking him with delight and grabs his hand, dragging him off to the till, leaving Chloe browsing the store.

 

~

 

Chloe watches Trixie drag Lucifer off towards the tills with a smile on her face. Today has been just what she needed to take her mind off all the craziness that has happened in the past few weeks.

She’s surprised by Lucifer’s behaviour recently, she can see that he’s really trying to put in the effort with them. And he’s been so good with Trixie. He would never admit it, but she can see that he really cares for her despite his supposed dislike for children. It really warms her heart to see them get along.

Trixie looks up to him so much, he means the world to her and after everything that had happened with Marcus, it’s good to know that her daughter is happy. Because with Marcus, Trixie had never really liked him. She’d never said as much of course, but she knows her daughter. She could see that she didn’t get along with the man quite as well as she wanted her to think. She’d told herself that she would warm up to him, but she knows now that she was just lying to herself. Just trying to avoid the truth in so many ways.

The truth about who she truly loves.

Now though, she can accept the truth and if this past week has told her anything it’s that she and Lucifer have a real shot. A real chance to be happy. She isn’t going to let it slip through her fingers.

Not again.

Trixie runs up to her, holding the Stitch out in front of herself. “Look Mommy, feel how soft he is!”

She takes the plush toy and feels the soft fur between her fingers.

“Wow, he is soft! Did you thank Lucifer, Baby?” She looks to him ambling his way towards them with his hands held behind his back.

“Uh-huh.”

“What’ve you got there?” She asks.

“Oh, it’s… um,” he stutters, looking rather sheepish, “it’s silly….” His eyes drop to the floor.

Putting her hand on his arm she says, “I’m sure it’s not, just show me.”

“Well, I—I thought that…. I suppose it’s just—”

“Lucifer just show me what you have.” She pulls his arm and he brings his hands from behind his back revealing a small plush Piglet, the old style with the green jumper. “You remembered….”

Her eyes suddenly sting, her heart beating furiously like a caged bird in her chest. After her Father’s case had closed, Lucifer had been kind to her, telling her that her father would’ve been proud of her and had even listened as she talked about him over a glass of wine. At the time she’d figured he hadn’t been paying much attention, but it’d been nice to talk to someone, nonetheless.

He had listened though. She’s quickly realising that he _always_ listens. At least when it comes to her.

She’d told him about when she was little and had nightmares. Her father would come and read to her from _Winnie the Pooh,_ at least when he’d been around to. Piglet had always been her favourite because even when he was afraid he still tried his best to help others and it made her feel like it was alright to be afraid sometimes.

Tears flow freely down her cheeks and her throat feels tight.

“Oh, bloody Hell. I knew it was a stupid idea. I’m sorry, Detective, it wasn’t my intention to upset you,” he huffs.

When she flings his arms around him, holding him tightly against her, he freezes.

“It’s not silly,” she mumbles into his shirt. “I love it. Thank you.”

“Then why are you… oh! Is this one of those times when you’re happy but you cry?”

She nods against him as his arms envelop her.

He’s learning.

 

~

 

After a long day of fun, they head back to the car, hand in hand. Trixie yawns, rubbing her eyes, still clutching Stitch against her. She will no doubt fall asleep as soon as she gets in the car.

Lucifer unlocks the car and Trixie climbs and immediately leans her head against the rest, closing her eyes.

“Hey Baby, stay in the car for a second, okay? I want to talk to Lucifer,” she says as she leans over clicking the girl’s belt in place. She nods sleepily already looking like she’s half way to falling asleep. Completely tuckered out.

“Lucifer,” she says, approaching him and placing her hand upon his forearm, “thank you for today. It really meant so much to Trixie and to me.”

He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, averting his gaze in favour of staring at the pavement. “It was nothing really….”

“No,” she squeezes his arm and reaches up to hold his chin, making him look at her. She needs him to know how much it means. “It wasn’t nothing. It was kind and thoughtful and generous.”

His dark eyes twinkle in the low sun, his face soft and his lips pressed into an uneasy, wan smile.

“You, Lucifer Morningstar, are a good man,” she shakes him, as if it will help him believe her finally. “And I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

His lips part slightly, his brows creeping towards his hairline showing his surprise at her statement. He still doesn’t believe that he is good and she’s not sure he ever will but, it doesn’t stop her from telling him.

He’s in a daze.

Leaning up onto her tiptoes she presses her lips to his, pulling him closer and basking in his heat before pulling away and leaning her forehead against his.

The gesture seems to have become somewhat of a ritual for them. She likes it. It holds comfort and intimacy and she feels like when they are like this nothing else matters, they have their little bubble of privacy. Away from all the worries of the world and real life. It feels safe.

Until it doesn’t.

“ _YOU!”_ A familiar voice laced with anger and hate pops their bubble, causing the pair to part like oil and water.

Nikolai Saroyan stands in the almost empty car park, waving a gun at them with a crazed look in his eyes.

What is he doing here? Her mind races trying to put the puzzle together as she raises her hands above her head. She hopes to G— to _someone_ that he doesn’t shoot because she has no way to defend herself with her gun stowed safely in the car’s glove box, out of reach.

“Nikolai, put the gun down,” she says, softly, “whatever you want we can talk about it, okay? There doesn’t have to be any violence.” She eyes the car window and sees Trixie sleeping, completely unaware of the unfolding events. Hopefully she can dispel the situation before it gets out of hand and the girl won’t even know anything had transpired.

“ _You,”_ he snarls, stepping closer to them, his hand visibly shaking. “What did you do to me?”

She realises his question is directed at Lucifer, and so is his gun. He’s aiming straight at him, paying no mind to her. He doesn’t make any indication that he’s heard a word she’d said.

Lucifer raises his hands placatingly, “look—"

“ _NO!”_ Nikolai roars, his face contorting as beads of sweat drip from his forehead. “ _No._ No more mind games. Just shut up! You… _you made me_ _do it!_ How? How did you make me?” His voice shakes almost as much as his hands. The crazy look in his eyes growing, revealing just how unhinged he is. “MY BROTHER IS DEAD BECAUSE OF _YOU!”_

Lucifer had used his desire mojo to make Nikolai give up his Brother’s location. His brother had ended up dead.  

“Nikolai, it’s not his fault. Put the gun down and we can talk, okay?”

It’s not his fault because it’s _her_ fault. She killed his brother. Not Lucifer.

He ignores her and keeps stepping closer to them, his eyes trained on his target. Just a little closer and she might be able to get the gun away from him.

He lets out a maniacal laugh. “You made me. _Made me._ Now Sammie’s dead and you have to pay.”

“ _NO!”_ She yells as his finger tightens on the trigger but, he doesn’t hear her, and the sound of gunfire pierces the air.


	8. Bleeding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Nikolai's revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning for graphic depictions of blood, violence and injury.*
> 
> Title credit goes to Imagine Dragons.

It’s almost as if time stands still.

Silence reins.

For a moment nothing happens. Like someone has hit the pause button.

There are no birds cawing, no roar of car engines, no signs of life.

Just silence.

Silence and the sound of her heart pounding, the pulsating rush of blood in her ears.

Everything is still, and for a moment, she has hope.

Then it is crushed. Crushed like a soda can under a steam roller.

The play button is pressed, and the world jars into life.

It hits her like a plunge into ice cold water. It takes her breath away.

Her mouth opens to call out to him, but no words form.

His body hits the pavement with a thud and she is powerless to stop it.

Her brain screams at her to run to him but, her body won’t respond. She stands, frozen in place, unable to do anything.

The sound of a gun clattering to the floor and a rush of people moving to apprehend the gunman snaps her out of it.

She staggers over to Lucifer, almost tripping over her own feet, and collapses onto her knees beside him.

“No, no, no….”

This can’t be happening.

Her hands hover over his middle where his crisp white shirt is stained with a growing blossom of red, spreading outwards from the bullet hole in his chest.

A man’s voice somewhere behind her is explaining the situation and their location. He tells her that help is coming.

Help is coming, she repeats in her head, a mantra to keep her from falling into the pit of despair that she currently teeters on the edge of.

Her eyes frantically find his face. His eyes are closed, his usually plush pink lips splattered red. She grabs his limp hand, feeling for a pulse. It jolts her when she feels the cool and clammy flesh in her hand, he’s usually so warm and reassuring.

Tears prickle her eyes.

No. She has to focus. She has to help him.

His pulse is rapid beneath her fingers as she lightly applies pressure to his wrist.

Next, she moves to his head, her hand holding his stubbled cheek and tilting his head back to listen for his breathing. He’s breathing which is good but, his breaths are fast and shallow which if she remembers her first aid training correctly, is a bad sign.

Moving quickly, she tears the front of his shirt open sending buttons flying in all directions. A weak cough causes her to freeze, turning her attention back to his sickly, pale face. His eyes are half-mast and unfocused but, he seems to be looking at her.

“C—Chl—” Another cough racks his body and he gasps for breath, squeezing his eyes shut against the agony.

Her hand flies to his face automatically, caressing his cheek in an attempt to comfort him. “Hey,” she says softly, trying to keep her voice from wobbling. She doesn’t want to scare him more than he already must be. “Just hold on okay? You’re gonna be fine.”

He lets out what sounds like a half-strangled scoff though it falls flat, and he coughs again sending droplets of blood into the air, speckling his rapidly paling skin.

As she pulls his shirt back, he mumbles something she can’t understand, though, knowing him, she guesses it’s a quip about her undressing him.

She quickly assesses the gaping wound in his chest, just on the inner side of his left pectoral. Deep red blood bubbles around the edges of the hole.

Not good.

Fast thinking, she pulls her shiny plastic VIP pass from her neck and presses it to his chest, effectively stopping the oxygen from escaping. His body jerks at the application of pressure and a grunt slips from his lips.

“Sorry,” she says, grimacing at having to cause him more pain.

He manages to press his lips into a wan smile. “’S ‘kay… ‘s nice….”

“It’s nice?”

Blood loss must be making him delusional. She looks at the pool of crimson slowly expanding beneath him.

So much blood….

He tries to swallow but, ends up spluttering a cough. “Y--you undressin’ m—me,” he stammers.

A laugh escapes her lips. It’s not a happy sound. “You never stop do you?”

He makes a noise she thinks is supposed to be a chuckle and weakly shakes his head. Meeting his eyes, she offers him as much as a smile as she can manage, telling herself over and over that he’s going to be okay. That he’s strong. The sight of his beautiful brown eyes that are usually alight with glee, now dull voids filled with fear pains her. She can’t stop the tears from welling in her eyes.

“D—don’t cry.” His voice is small and broken but filled with care. Trying to comfort her when it should be the other way around because she’s not the one that’s dying—

No.

He isn’t dying.

He’s going to be okay.

Everything’s going to be okay.

She glances over her shoulder, looking for Trixie in the car. A crowd of people has appeared from somewhere; when did that happen? Hopefully Trixie didn’t see them, it’s hard enough keeping her own emotions in check— _sort of—_ after seeing him like this.

Waiting for the emergency services is agonizing. They seem to be taking an eternity. Every minute that passes she can almost see his chances dwindling, the embers of his fire puffing out of existence one by one.

He’s white as a sheet, his eyes drifting lazily shut and opening again, fighting to stay awake.

“Help is coming, okay? Just hold on a bit longer, can you do that?” She says. She badly wants to touch his face, squeeze his hand. Do anything to show him he’s not alone but, she can’t take her hands off the wound. He looks at her but doesn’t respond. “Lucifer?”

She can see it in his overly expressive eyes. He won’t lie to her. Won’t tell her that he can, when all the signs are telling her that he can’t. Even now he’s trying to protect her.

“ _Lucifer._ Try, please. For me,” she says, a hint of desperation clouding her voice.

He squeezes his eyes shut again, his jaw clenching, the muscles dancing as he strains against the pain. “I—” He tries to talk but is interrupted by a wet, spluttery cough. “I—I’ll try….”

With that his eyes flutter shut and stay like that.

“Lucifer?”

She takes a, now slick with blood, hand off his chest and checks his pulse. It’s weak but he’s still here. She checks his breathing again. It’s growing more and more shallow by the second.

She hopes to God that the ambulance is going to get here soon. How long had it been? It can’t have been more than fifteen minutes but, it feels like forever.

Like an answer to her prayers, the sound of sirens in the distance fill her with hope.

 

Before she knows it, she’s being pulled away by paramedics who load him into the back of the ambulance as she watches, unable to move and feeling totally helpless.

Someone asks her if she knows his blood type. She can’t answer. She just numbly shakes her head. What else could she say? _Oh, by the way, he’s an archangel so he may not even have a blood type?_

A paramedic with kind eyes tells her which hospital they are going to and then they’re gone in a flash. The crowd disperses, and everything seems normal. Like the calm after a storm. The only sign that anything had happened here is the puddle of blood soaking into the pavement and her stood with stained hands, shirt and a tear streaked face.

She feels numb. Like she can’t quite handle all the emotions being thrown at her, so her brain has just decided to block them all out.

Her hands shake as she bends down to retrieve his car keys from the ground and makes her way towards the car.

Trixie peers out of the window with wide, tear filled eyes. She must look a fright to the girl. It all must be scary and confusing for her.

She takes a breath before sliding into the driver’s side of the car.

“Mommy did the bad man hurt Lucifer? Is he okay?”

She sighs rubbing her forehead with her hand. Not the best idea considering the state of them. “I don’t know Baby.”

The girl whimpers in the back seat, furiously hugging the Stitch plush. She wants to tell her that everything’s going to be okay, that Lucifer will get better but, she doesn’t know that and it’s a struggle to tell herself. She can’t get her hopes up.

Fumbling with her phone, she dials Dan. He picks up after a couple of rings.

_“Hey, Chlo. What’s up?”_

“Dan,” she fails to keep the tremor and the rush of emotion that suddenly overcomes her out of her voice, “it’s—”

 _“What’s wrong? Has something happened?”_ Concern colours his voice. He always was good at picking up on her feelings.

“It’s Lucifer, he—”

He makes a noise that sounds like a snarl. _“What has that Bastard done? I swear to God, Chlo, if he’s hurt you I will—”_

“No, Dan. He hasn’t done anything,” her voice cracks and tears flow freely down her face. “Nikolai, he came after us…. I—I don’t know how he knew where to find us but… Lucifer he’s—” A sob escapes her lips despite all her effort to stop it. “He shot Lucifer,” she eventually manages, broken though it may be.

There’s a moment of silence and then he sighs. _“Oh God. Chloe I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have let him go. Is Lucifer gonna be okay?”_

“I don’t know. I need to go to the hospital, can you meet us there and take Trixie home?”

_“Trixie was there? Is she okay?”_

“I’m not sure. I don’t think she saw most of it.”

 _“Okay. Okay.”_ There’s a ruffle on the line like he’s swapping ears and running a hand through his hair. “ _I’ll get there as soon as I can. Text me the details.”_

And with that he’s gone.

She takes a moment to steady her breathing and jams the keys into the ignition and the car roars to life beneath her. A sad chuckle escapes her lips when she realises Lucifer will kill her if he ever finds out that she’s gotten his car dirty.

He’s going to be okay, she tells herself again as she pulls out of the lot.

He is.

 

~

 

Chloe hates hospitals. The smell of antiseptic so strong in the air you can almost taste it, cold artificial lighting illuminating sterile, white corridors lacking any personality or joy. It’s enough to depress even the happiest person. The waiting room for the ICU is worse. Out of date magazines litter the tables, a sad looking plant with browning leaves sits in the corner of the room and a coffee machine that looks like it hasn’t worked for quite some time sits against the far wall.

She sits on the uncomfortable chairs with her daughter lying, head in her lap. When they had arrived at the hospital she had been told to wait in here. When she’d asked how Lucifer was the nurse had given her an apologetic look and said that the doctor would come and tell her when there was news. That had been over an hour ago.

Dan hadn’t arrived yet. She figured he would have been across town and at this time would have been caught in the evening rush.

She stares down at her phone in her hands. She should call Amenadiel. Maybe Maze? She and Lucifer hadn’t been on the best terms recently but, they are close friends. Surely, she still cares about him.

Flicking to her contacts, she dials Amenadiel first. It goes straight to voicemail. She frowns and tries again. Voicemail. She decides to send him a text rather than leave him a message, she wouldn’t want to tell him that way.

_Chloe [17:39]: Hey Amenadiel, it’s Chloe. Call me as soon as you get this. It’s important._

The message sends but isn’t delivered. He must have his phone switched off.

Next, she calls Maze, hesitating over the name in her contacts for a few minutes before she finally works up the courage to do so.

The phone rings and rings. She doesn’t think that Maze is going to pick up but, then she is greeted with a snappy _“what is it?”_ that screams irritation and implies _this-better-be-important._

“Maze, it’s—”

She’s interrupted by shouts in the background of the call.

 _“Hang on,”_ she says, static and the sound of clattering coming through the receiver as she places the phone down. Chloe hears the sound of her footsteps walking away followed by a man’s screams and the sound of flesh being struck. _“What do you want, Decker? And this better be good.”_

Chloe takes a breath, “it’s Lucifer, he—”

_“I don’t care.”_

Her harsh dismissal hits her like a ton of bricks. “Maze, he’s been—”

 _“No, Decker. I don’t want to know what he’s done now. That stupid, inconsiderate, Bastard ruined everything. He always ruins everything. So, if you need help with something, fine, but I will not help him.”_ Her words are a fierce snarl, filled with hate and it makes Chloe want to scream. How can his closest friend treat him like this?

“Maze just listen. Lucifer’s hurt, I’m at the hospital now. I just thought you should know because I don’t—look, I don’t know if he’s…” _going to make it,_ she can’t bring herself to say out loud. “That’s all I wanted to say.”

The Demon hangs the phone up abruptly ending the call. Whatever the Hell that means. She can’t say she didn’t try though.

She slumps her shoulders, holding her head in her hand. It feels like she should be doing something. Her partner is fighting for his life and she’s just sat here, completely useless.

A strong, warm hand on her shoulder stops her wallowing. For a split second she thinks it’s Lucifer and her heart flies, only to crash land when she looks up to see Dan.

“Hey Chlo,” he says softly, perching on the edge of the seat beside her. “Any news?”

She shakes her head.

He gives her a thin, pitiful smile. “Look, I know I wasn’t exactly nice to Lucifer the last time we spoke but,” he rubs the back of his neck, averting his gaze, “I was just upset, okay. I didn’t want this to happen. I’m sorry it has.”

“So am I,” she whispers, feeling the tell-tale prickle of tears behind her eyes. He pulls her into an awkward sideways hug and she doesn’t resist. She lets the tears flow, soaking the shoulder of his jacket.

After a few minutes she composes herself and pulls away. All the crying is making her eyes sore and she feels emotionally exhausted. “Thank you,” she tells him, not exactly sure what for. Maybe just for being here when no one else is. “Have you heard from Amenadiel? I’ve been trying to reach him but there’s no answer.”

“No. I haven’t seen him around in a while.”

“He should be here.”

Dan nods.

 

After that she fills him in on what exactly happened and then they sit in silence for a while.

“Hey, do you want to go get a coffee downstairs?” He suggests, “I think we’ll be waiting a while.”

A coffee sounds good but, what if she leaves and something happens? She’s not sure she would forgive herself.

“I don’t want to leave. I can’t.”

He gives her an understanding nod and squeezes her shoulder, “that’s okay. How about I take Trixie home, arrange a sitter and come back with some clean clothes for you?”

She looks down at herself for the first time since she’d gotten in the car in the lot. Her white shirt and light jeans are stained with his blood in big patches.

“That’d be good.” She swallows, unable to tear her eyes away from the stark red. The image of it all soaking into the pavement flashing in her mind. Dan clears his throat, pulling her back to reality. “Thank you.”

He bends down and lifts the sleeping girl from her lap in his arms. He bobs his head. “I’ll be back as soon as possible, okay?”

She nods as he leaves the small waiting room. Sighing, she sinks into the uncomfortable seat, mentally preparing herself for what she knows will be an arduous wait.

 

The minutes crawl by at an agonizingly slow pace. She watches doctors and nurses pass by hoping to catch a snippet of conversation that will tell her something, anything but, nothing does. Each time the doors swing open, her heart flutters with anticipation of news but it doesn’t come.

In the windowless room the concept of time passing seems to fade away, the buzz of people never recedes, the chatter never stops and yet she feels still. Frozen in time, the world is passing her by like the rush of a river around a rock, silently stuck in her moment of anguish.

Eventually, Dan returns, she’s not sure how long he’s been gone but it must’ve been a few hours at least.

“Hey,” he says as he takes the seat next to her, setting a rucksack down on the floor at his feet and holds his hand out, offering her a _Starbuck_ ’s to-go cup. She gratefully accepts the drink, wrapping her hands around it. “Anything?”

She shakes her head wordlessly, her gaze fixed somewhere distant.

“Well, you know what they say,” he says with a weak smile to which she responds with a flat stare because, no, she doesn’t know what they say. “No news is good news.”

She knows that he means well, trying to offer comfort but, that doesn’t help at all.

She manages, with some amount of effort to look at him. To pull herself from the fugue state that she seems to have fallen into. If only for a moment. “Thanks for the coffee, Dan. You don’t have to stay though, I’ll be fine.”

His face creases in concern. “I’m not going to let you sit here alone, Chloe.”

She appreciates him being here for her but, he isn’t the man she wants by her side right now. No, the one she wants is dying because of him.

No. She quickly shakes that thought out of her head. It isn’t Dan’s fault.

“So,” he says glancing around the room, “no one else has been by?”

“No.”

“No family or anything?”

Family. His family as in _God_ and _angelic siblings_. “Nope. They aren’t the type to do hospital visits.”

“Oh. So… you’ve met them?”

“No, I’ve just… heard a lot.”

“Right. I guess Lucifer talks about his family a lot, huh? They sound pretty messed up.”

“Uh-huh. That’s one way to put it.” Ancient celestial beings who _literally_ created the universe is another.

They fall into silence. It feels like it should be awkward but, it’s not. After all it is Dan, her ex husband and now close friend. He must be having a hard time after Charlotte, but he’s still here for her. She knows deep down that he always will be.

She takes a sip of the coffee only to freeze, the taste on her tongue whipping up a frenzy of emotions within her. “What is this?” She asks, turning to Dan who looks up at her with a little smile.

“Non-fat almond milk latte with sugar free caramel drizzle, just how you like it.”

She stares at the cup as unbidden tears creep to her eyes, blurring her vision. The drink that Lucifer brings her every morning in her hands is a painful reminder that he may never bring her one again. She wants to scream, to curse his Father for doing this to him.

“Chloe? Are you okay? I can get you another if—”

“No! No, Dan, I am _not_ okay!” She snaps before bursting into tears, sobbing and covering her face with her hand. He quickly pulls her into his side where she cries into his jacket again. At this rate she will have no tears left to shed.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“No,” he says firmly, “it’s okay, I understand.” He rubs comforting circles onto her back and she continues to weep. It feels better to let it out even if it does leave her feeling empty inside.

Empty is okay right now.

She can handle empty.

She pulls away from Dan, exhausted and slumps back in her chair, sipping the coffee, savouring the taste. If she closes her eyes, she can imagine it’s just another morning, like any other with Lucifer by her side making some inappropriate remark to which she would roll her eyes but, secretly enjoy.

Dan looks at his watch. “Hey, I’m gonna go see if I can find anything out. They should know something by now.”

She nods, her gaze following him as he walks over to the reception desk.

After a few minutes of chatting with the nurse there, he returns taking the seat beside her.

“He said he’s sorry that he can’t tell us much, just that they took him into surgery as soon as possible and he isn’t out yet. She doesn’t know how long it will be, but he’ll let us know when there’s any news.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

She settles in, leaning her head against Dan’s shoulder and closes her eyes. It’s going to be a long night.

 

“Detectives,” a soft voice penetrates her unconscious mind. Her first thought is that it’s Lucifer but no, the accent is wrong. Opening her eyes and groggily blinking the sleep away, she stretches, her neck and back scream in protest from having slept, slouched on an uncomfortable chair. A Nurse stands by them, patiently waiting for them to wake up.

“’m ‘wake,” Dan mumbles beside her, rousing from his sleep.

Yawning, she covers her mouth with her fist.

“Your colleague—” The man starts but she finds herself interrupting him, the rush of anxiety jolting her fully awake.

“Is he okay?” She asks the man, sitting up straight in her chair. “Please tell me he’s okay.”

The man looks apologetic. “You’ll have to speak with his doctor, I was just told to tell you that his room is ready and that you can wait in there if you like.”

She thanks the man and rises, tugging a half-asleep Dan along with her as he shows them to the room.

Sunlight filters in through the askew plastic blinds, highlighting particles of dust dancing in the air. A single chair sits in the corner of the drab room, it looks far comfier than the ones in the waiting room. There’s an empty space where the hospital bed should be with a small cabinet beside it. A doorway leads to what she presumes is an on-suite.

The nurse leaves, telling them he will be at the desk if they need anything. She leans against the wall, wanting to stretch her legs after sitting for so long. Dan follows her lead, leaning next to her and checks his watch.

“No wonder I feel so groggy,” he groans, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s almost ten.”

“You should go, Trixie—”

He shakes his head. “She’s fine. I ended up taking her to your Mom’s. Couldn’t get a sitter on such short notice.”

“Ah. I’m just gonna….” She gestures to the on-suite, stepping into the small room, taking the rucksack with her. A glimpse in the mirror reflects an exhausted version of herself with dark circles under her eyes and more lines in her face than had been there before. She sits for a few moments, she feels like crying, but doesn’t think she has the tears left in her.

In the rucksack she finds a couple of changes of clothes. Pulling her dirty clothes off, she opts for jeans and a baggy tee. She stares down at the dry blood-soaked material of her dirty t-shirt before stuffing it away in the bag, not wanting to think about it again. She splashes some water on her face in a futile attempt to make her look less worn out.

When she re-enters the room, Dan is stood with a woman in clean blue scrubs.

“Detective Decker,” she greets her. “Doctor Kim Caban. Apologies for your wait.”

Her legs suddenly feel like jelly as her mind expects the worst. Stood in the private room with no Lucifer and a doctor, bad news seems like a surety. She sits herself down on the chair, hiding the way her legs wobble beneath her.

“How is he?” Her voice seems to come out a squeak, her throat suddenly tight and hoarse.

The doctor smiles with kind, understanding eyes. “Your friend is very lucky.”

If she hadn’t have been sitting down she would have surely fallen down. The words seem to lift a heavy weight off her shoulders and hope blossoms inside her, her heart fluttering.

“He suffered major trauma to the thoracic area and lost massive amounts of blood but, we’ve managed to stabilise him. He is by no means out of the woods yet but, the worst part is behind him.”

It’s almost like music to her ears, the words flood her with relief.

The doctor goes on, but her attention drifts. The only thing she can manage to focus on is that he’s okay.

He’s _okay._

When she does manage to pull her attention back to what the doctor is saying, her exhausted brain struggles to make sense of most of it, only recognising the odd word here or there or the general area she is talking about. She talks about hyper something shock, Chloe has heard of it before. Something to do with excessive blood loss, she thinks.

“He fought through the surgery. I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” she finishes shaking her head in disbelief.

A smile manages to creep to her face. “Yeah, he’s a tough one.”

“He’ll be brought here in a few hours. You should both go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat, you look like you could use it.”

She opens her mouth to protest but the doctor looks at her with a knowing glint in her eyes.

“If anything happens, I know where to find you,” she says, smiling and bidding them a farewell before leaving them alone again.

Dan puts a hand on his stomach. “She’s right you know, I could really use something to eat.”

“You go.”

“C’mon Chlo, you need to eat.”

She sighs, shaking her head. A dull throbbing pain at her temples causes her to squeeze her eyes shut. “I’m not hungry.”

“Well, try at least. Please?”

Rubbing her face with her hand, she concedes, too exhausted to put up much of a fight. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

 

She picks at her cold pasta salad as Dan shovels food into his mouth like there’s no tomorrow.

“You heard what the Doc said,” he says, around a mouthful of sausage, “he’ll be fine.”

“That’s not what she said, Dan.”

He swallows. “I know I’m just saying, like she said he’s a fighter.” He waves his fork around in the air. “I mean, his heart stopped twice and he’s still here. It can’t be much worse than that, can it?”

Her fork clatters to the table with a loud clang. “ _What?”_ It feels like the air has suddenly been sucked from her lungs, her head spins and dizziness overcomes her. “When did she….” Her voice is nothing more than a whisper.

“Dammit, I’m sorry. I didn’t think. We were talking whilst you were in the bathroom.”

“No. It’s okay.”

They sit in silence whilst Dan eats the rest of his food. She feels weak at the thought of how close she had come to losing him. Holding her head in her hands, she wonders how it had all gone so wrong. How had her life ended up like this? First Dan betrayed her with the whole Palmetto mess. Then Marcus manipulating her for his own gain only to try and _murder_ her in cold blood.

Now Lucifer, the best friend she’s ever had, the man she loves more than anything, cruelly snatched from her just as things were going right. It’s not fair. She hates every second of this. Why can’t she just be happy for once?

 

When they return to the room she expects to see it still empty but, it’s not. She stumbles at the door, leaning on the frame to steady herself. Her breath catches in her throat, almost choking her as she sees him lying there. If it weren’t for the slow, intrusive beeps of the heart monitor she would think him dead.

Edging forward she moves to lean on the bed’s handrail. He’s so pale, the colour completely gone from his face leaving his eyes looking hollow with dark circles beneath them. His dark hair, usually so perfectly coiffed, now dishevelled with unruly curls stuck to his clammy forehead. 

Rounding the bed, she pulls the seat up close and sets herself down, taking his limp hand in hers. It’s so cold, such a stark contrast from his usual heat that a sickening feeling devours her whole. Tears prickle her eyes as she leans her head on the rail, holding onto his hand for dear life, like if she lets go he might fade away into nothing. Dan’s hand comes to rest on her back, rubbing a comforting pattern, his presence reassuring. Squeezing her eyes shut to hold back the flood, she longs for this to just be one long, awful nightmare that if she tries hard enough she will wake up and everything will be normal again.

But she doesn’t wake up.

This isn’t a dream.

It’s really real and it’s killing her.


	9. Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer makes a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early as I mentioned last time, will be posting the final chapter over the weekend (tomorrow hopefully) so, enjoy! Have a great weekend all you lovely peeps<3 
> 
> Title credit goes to BANNERS

The next few days are a living Hell.

She stays at the hospital, sitting beside him, hoping with every fibre of her being that he will wake up.

The doctors have told her it would take time, that he needs rest, but the uncertainty that they held whenever she asked the question worried her.

_How much time?_

The question niggles at her mind like flesh-eating bacteria, slowly chipping away at her hope, leaving a crumbled pile of doubt and worry behind.

Dan had visited every day, bringing her clean clothes and food, though she hasn’t had much of an appetite for it. Still, it’s kind of him, how much he still cares despite everything. She’s forgiven him for treating Lucifer how he had, it had been wrong of him to place blame like that, but he was hurting, and he knows he was misguided. He’s trying to make up for it and that’s what counts.

Aside from Dan no one else has been to visit yet. She’d tried Amenadiel’s phone again, but to no avail. No one had seen him since Charlotte, she hopes that where ever he is, he’s okay.

She’d called Linda to let her know what had happened. The therapist had sounded upset, she and Lucifer were close. She promised that she would visit as soon as possible.

Ella had called her having heard the news from the precinct chatter. The Forensic Scientist’s concern had touched her, telling her to hang in there and that she would visit after work.

After that there was no one, was there? His family were… well, _his family_ so, no chance of any of them dropping by. Not that she would want them to. It just saddens her to see, the sweet, caring man before her with no one. No one caring enough about him to visit him in the hospital after he’d almost died. Pain lances her heart as she realises how alone he must have been before her.

Squeezing his limp, cold hand she vows that she will care enough to make up for that.

To everyone else he might be The Devil, someone who doesn’t need compassion and support but, she can see beneath his strong façade.

He’s not the Devil.

Not to her.

 

~

Lucifer isn’t sure what _is_ anymore.

He holds his hands out in front of himself. Still the fleshy, pink human hands he’s used to.

Running the back of his hand across his stubbled cheek confirms that his face is the same. He’s wearing his coal black Armani, three-piece suit with a crisp, snowy white shirt and a bright red pocket square to tie the ensemble together.

Still his usual devilish, debonair self then.

He’s not quite sure how he ended up here.

Or, for that matter, where _here_ is.

It’s certainly not Hell. That can only be a good thing, can’t it?

Looking around him, he sees _nothing._

A vast expanse, as far as the eye can see, of nothing.

Except light.

This place, wherever it may be, has no darkness only an ethereal glow to it.

He’s standing, the surface solid beneath his feet but, not ground, as such. Well, not that he can discern. Everything is just white.

Perhaps this is a purgatory of some sort?

He can see no other souls though….

What to do….

Maybe if he can remember how he’d gotten here it could help him figure a way out?

_Think Lucifer. Think._

He remembers the Detective, his sweet Chloe, accepting him!

Yes!

She had accepted him despite knowing that he is the Devil.

Oh, how wonderful it was.

She had invited him to the beach, of all places, to spend the day with her and the Little Spawn. If he closes his eyes he can almost feel the sea breeze, taste the salt in his mouth and the warmth in his chest.

But, there was more….

Yes! A date under the stars! How lovely she had looked, illuminated by the soft candle light, laughing and smiling.

That wasn’t how he’d ended up here though, he had a feeling it was something to do with the Detective….

Why can’t he remember?

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration.

Perhaps if he walks he will find something or someone?

Yes. That’s what he shall do. After all, he can’t possibly get anymore lost, can he?

 

He walks, and he walks.

For how long, he can’t be sure.

There’s no sense of time in this place.

“Bloody Hell,” he huffs, coming to a stop. It’s pointless to continue, everything looks the bloody same. In fact, he may as well not have moved in the first place.

Rubbing his forehead, he tries to remember again.

He and the Detective had had a case. He feels like that is important, though he can’t remember why.

Slumping his shoulders, he sets himself down on the floor. It doesn’t seem like he’s going anywhere anytime soon.

How the bloody Hell is he supposed to figure a way out of here if he can’t remember how he got here in the first place?

Loosing a hefty sigh, he absently rubs his chest. Maybe he’s just doomed to stay here forever.

He frowns, eyebrows creasing.

Why had he just done that?

He looks down at the area he’d just rubbed with his hand. Something is missing.

Something important.

His fingers explore the silky material of his shirt in the area just over where his heart would be.

It comes back to him in a flash, like he’s been struck by lightning.

He had been shot.

Yes, In the car park, after they’d been to that wretched _Disneyland._

It’s all coming back to him now. 

That bastard from the case they’d been working _shot him._

He clenches his fists in anger, his knuckles turning white with the pressure.

How dare that insolent piece of human rubbish shoot him, he requires punishment!

Hang on….

If he’s been shot, then where is he?

He doesn’t feel dead.

But he’s not sure that he’s alive either.

He seems to be just… here.

It’s disconcerting, to say the least.

So, he sits there and remembers the Detective and the days he had spent with her. What else can he do? There’s nothing else here as far as he can tell. Just more… nothing, stretching further than he can see.

He just sits and remembers the way her gorgeous, blue eyes stared down at him, full of worry as he lay on the hard pavement. Was that the last time he will ever see her? A pain lances his heart at that thought.

He pushes it back.

No.

He will get out of this place.

He will.

And that’s when something in the distance catches his eye. Something not white. Something Dark and slender, easily noticeable against the white backdrop. Almost like a figure….

 

~

 

Later that evening, she sits, holding his hand still. As silly as it sounds, she’s afraid to let go, like he might slip away, disappear into nothing if she does. She carefully studies his features and the steady rise and fall of his chest. The doctors said he should start to show signs of improvement soon.

As far as she can see though, there are none.

He still looks paler than should be possible, his skin icy to the touch yet somehow clammy. The steady rise and fall of his chest reassures her though, reminding her that he’s still here. It’s the only thing that does.

He would hate this. Being confined to a bed with tubes attached to him, surrounded by bleeping machines.

 _“Bloody Hell, this is boooooring. What’s a Devil got to do to get a drink around here?”_ she can almost hear him whining.

She sighs, rubbing her free hand over her face. How badly she wants him to wake up so this can all be over. Thankfully, work has been lenient, giving her as much time off as she needs and Dan is taking care of Trixie.

Her eyes are heavy from lack of sleep and red raw from tears. She’d curled up in the chair and gained a few fitful hours of sleep but that was all. She really can’t bring herself to take her eyes off him for more than a few hours at a time, just in case he wakes up.

A soft knock comes at the door. She looks up expecting to see a nurse or doctor but instead her friends, Linda and Ella enter the small room.

“Hey,” she says, reluctantly releasing Lucifer’s hand, rising to greet the pair. Her muscles ache as she stands, protesting the movement after so long in that chair.

Ella looks at her with big sad eyes and quickly rushes around the bed, enveloping her in a massive hug. “Chloe, I am so sorry,” she pulls away, studies her face for a moment and, is obviously not happy with what she sees because she pulls her back into a hug, squeezing her tightly. She pats the smaller woman on the back. The hug should feel good but, she just feels empty inside. Closing her eyes, she holds back yet more tears, wishing that it could be him holding her.

When they break apart, she sees that Linda is stood beside the bed, her hand gently resting on top of his.

“He hasn’t woken up yet?” she asks.

Chloe shakes her head. “No.” She wraps her arms around herself, the tears she was holding back sting her eyes and she tries to blink them away. Linda notices her distress and rounds the bed, placing a reassuring hand on her arm.

“Give him time, Chloe. He just needs time to heal.”

She wants to protest, wants to shout that he’s the devil, he should be stronger than this, but holds back, eyeing Ella wearily. Instead she bites her lip, worrying it between her teeth.

Ella must pick up on the tension brewing in the room because she quickly excuses herself to go get coffee, telling Chloe that she looks like she could use some.

 “Linda, he’s _the Devil._ He should’ve woken up by now,” she says, rubbing her face and plonking herself back down into the chair. “Something’s wrong.”

“Look, Chloe, I know this is difficult. But whether he’s the Devil or not, he was badly hurt. He just needs time to recover.” She places a hand on her shoulder. “He’s strong, he will get through this.”

Chloe closes her eyes, nodding.

The door bursts open. She expects it to be Ella returning with the coffee, but it isn’t.

Maze stomps into the room, her expression sends a shiver down Chloe’s spine. The Demon looks like she is out for blood.

“Decker, you need to _leave.”_

At Chloe’s blank response the Demon adds, “ _Now.”_

 

 

~

 

Scrambling up from the floor, he takes off running towards the thing. As he gets closer, he sees that it is in fact a figure.

He runs as fast as his legs will carry him and stops dead in his tracks when he finally gets close enough to see properly.

An undefined, faceless figure stares back at him.

A shadow.

“H-Hello?” He calls out as he edges closer to the thing.

Who or whatever it is, Lucifer knows one thing, they are a _coward_. Hiding themselves from him.

“Hello, Samael.” The voice is as undefined as the figure. It floats through the air, seemingly originating from nowhere… or _everywhere_.

“Show yourself,” he demands.

A laugh resounds around him. Twisted, menacing. “I can’t do that.”

“ _Coward._ ”

The shadow laughs again. “I am not a coward, I assure you. I’m doing this for you. So that you’ll listen when I tell you the truth.”

Lucifer grits his teeth. “Well I’m not going to listen either way.”

The shadow seems to sigh. “Stubborn as ever, Samael. Nothing ever changes does it? There was only ever one person you listened to, wasn’t there…?” The shadow melts, twisting and morphing until his own face stares back at him. It’s features as perfect as if he were looking in a mirror. Even down to his tailored suit. An identical reflection of himself. “ _Yourself._ Perhaps now you’ll feel more comfortable listening to what I have to say, eh Samael?”

That name. He _hates_ it. “ _Stop it_ ,” he hisses.

His own face smirks back at him. “What was that?”

“Don’t call me _that._ That’s not my name anymore.”

The other version of him sneers. “Isn’t it?” he asks, his voice filled with malice. “It’s still what you are though, no matter how much you deny it.” He licks his lips, eyeing him like prey. “ _God’s poison,”_ the words roll off his tongue in one smooth motion.

Lucifer clenches his fists at his side, feeling rage boil within him.

“Destroyer of all things. _Evil incarnate,”_ the imposter adds, each word hitting Lucifer like a punch to the gut.

Feeling the anger swirl within him he explodes. “ _NO! That is not what I am.”_

“Isn’t it?” he asks with a little chuckle.

Lucifer growls, a nasty, guttural sound. Who is this imposter anyway and what right does he have to say these things? He lunges forward but, the other man— _thing_ — seems to predict his move and casually sidesteps him with a smirk.

He tuts, shaking his head. “Ah, Samael, always so predictable….”

Lucifer snarls. “ _Who are you?”_

The imposter smiles, smugly. “Is that the question you _really_ want answering?”

Lucifer’s anger eases somewhat at the question. He raises his eyebrows at the imposter.

“Are you sure you don’t want to know, oh, I don’t know… how to get out of this place?” he asks flippantly with a flick of his wrist.

Lucifer’s eyes flicker alight with hellfire, a vicious firestorm of anger. “ _Tell me.”_

The imposter chuckles, waggling his index finger in front of him. “Oh, no. No. That would take all the fun out of it.”

“What do you want then?” Lucifer snaps.

A sly, cunning smile spreads across the imposter’s face.

“Let’s make a deal.”

 

~

 

“ _Excuse me?”_ Chloe snaps, rising to confront the Demon who is demanding that she leaves.

“ _Maze!”_ Linda gasps, looking disgusted by her friend’s behaviour.

“ _Leave.”_ She bares her teeth, holding the door open.

How dare she, showing up out of the blue without a word, demanding that she leave. “No.” She firmly plants herself on the spot, gripping the metal bed rail until her knuckles turn white.

The demon rolls her eyes hard, sighing dramatically. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Maze.”

“You make him _mortal.”_

She knows that. It’s how they had ended up here. What does it matter now though? He’s already been shot, immortal or not, that isn’t going to change, is it? “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, Maze.”

She huffs, her patience wearing thin. She looks like she might just give up trying to convince her and drag her out of the hospital kicking and screaming like she often does with her bounties. She knows all too well that she could, and she would be powerless to stop her. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

Maze takes her null response as a yes.

“He can’t heal as fast when you’re around,” she says flippantly. “So, leave. _Now.”_

A lump lodges itself in her throat. She tries to swallow it but finds herself unable, it only hinders her ability to breathe. She’s the reason he isn’t getting better? Guilt bombards her, grabbing at her ankles and pulling her down to the icy depths of despair. How could she have been so stupid? She’d been hurting him all this time. If she’d have just thought about it, used her damn head, this could have been over already.

Strong hands grip her arm and pull her up from the pile she doesn’t remember falling into on the floor. She finds her feet, wobbly though they may be, and is suddenly grateful for the Demon’s rude interruption. She needs to leave.

Linda moves to her side, holding her arm. “Are you okay? Sit down.”

Linda tries to guide her back to the chair, but she refuses, shaking her head and pulling herself free from the Doctor’s grasp. “No. No, I need to leave.”

She stumbles to the door.

“I’ll stay with him. Don’t worry, Decker, he’ll be fine once you’re gone for a while.”

 _Once she’s gone._ The words strike her like hot iron, pain shooting through her, hurt and guilt piercing her heart.

“C-call me when he’s awake. Please,” she begs, her voice comes out shaky and frail, sounding foreign to her ears.

“Sure.”

The Demon throws herself down in the chair, resting her legs up on the bed, looking relaxed as if nothing is wrong at all.

“I’ll drive you home,” Linda tells her as they leave the room.

She glances over her shoulder catching a last look at him lying in the bed. Her heart screams at her for leaving but her head tells her this will help.

She hopes to God that Maze is right about this.

At least then it’ll all be over, and things can go back to normal. Well… _their_ normal.

 

~

 

“A deal?”

The imposter hums. “You are _so very_ fond of them, are you not?”

Lucifer frowns. “I suppose…. What kind of deal are we talking about?”

It sounds too good to be true. His mind screams that it’s a trap.

“It’s quite simple.” He grins a sly, devious grin that might as well say the complete opposite. “All you have to do—”

“Yes?”

“—Is give your word that you shall never return to Earth. You may return to Hell and rule, no cell for you, but you may never leave.”

It feels like the floor has disappeared from beneath him. His knees suddenly growing weak at his look-alike’s words.

“This is the choice. Take it or stay here. It is all up to you now, Samael.”

Pure, untethered fury boils within him, filling him to bursting. His eyes set alight, burning. He wants to scream, rip the bastard limb from limb and feed him to a pack of hungry hell hounds. This… imposter may be his only way out of here though. He can’t afford to kill him.  He clenches his fists at his sides so hard that he draws blood from his palms.

“Why?”

The imposter shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “It’s just how it has to be. How it should have always been.”

This has Dad written all over it. He’s wanted him back in Hell since the beginning and now he’s forcing his hand. Well, he will not allow it. He will never go back to Hell, even if it means he has to spend the rest of his days here. In this limbo.

“No. Never.”

The imposter laughs. “I thought you might say that, ever the stubborn one, eh? Luckily, I have something… an _ace in the hole, you might say.”_

Lucifer swallows, suddenly feeling nauseous.

“Listen.” He tilts his head as if listening closely for something.

_“Lucifer, please wake up. Please. I can’t go on without you.”_

His heart lurches in his chest, pounding like a jackhammer.

_Chloe…._

~

 

A day passes. Then two. Maze doesn’t call.

She sends her text messages asking if anything has changed, only for Maze to respond with a casual “nope” as if they are discussing something as mundane as dinner plans.

On the third day she decides to call her. She can’t stand waiting around and not knowing.

The phone rings for what feels like forever. For a minute it seems like the Demon isn’t going to pick up.

 _“What?”_ Her voice finally comes.

“Hey. You said you’d call me. Has he woken up yet?”

There’s a pause before she replies, “ _Nope.”_ She tries to make it sound blasé, but Chloe can tell it’s forced. She’s hiding something from her.

“Shouldn’t he have by now?”

For a long moment she doesn’t say anything.

“Maze? Are you still there?”

 _“Yeah, I’m still here. I…”_ she huffs out a long sigh, _“I don’t know. I think something’s wrong.”_

She feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on her head. The words resound within her. Echoing in the empty, hollow space that is her now.  

_Something is wrong._

“Can’t you do something?” she asks, hoping with everything she’s got that Maze has an answer.

_“What can I do?”_

“He’s _the Devil,_ Maze. Surely there’s something… or _someone_ who can do something, _anything!”_

She’s met with deathly silence once again.

“Maze?”

_“Sorry, Decker. I don’t know how to fix this.”_

A sickening feeling washes over her, and nausea overcomes her. Hearing that from Maze crushes the last bit of hope she’d had left like a bug underfoot. She’s spiralling and there’s nothing to stop her, nothing to slow down her descent. Soon she will crash and burn and all she can do is stand back and let it happen.

“Can I—” The question catches in her throat. “Can I see him now, at least? I mean, if I’m not the reason he’s not healing, I don’t have to stay away anymore, right?”

_“I guess so.”_

“Right I’m coming over then.”

The line goes dead.

She isn’t about to spend another minute away from his side if she can help it.

 

When she arrives at the hospital, Maze is no where to be seen. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself before she sees him again.

When she enters, she’s surprised to see flowers and cards littering the top of the small table. A big teddy bear in a waist coat even sits at the foot of the bed.

She circles around the room, her heart clenching as she takes in his still pale skin and the hollowness that haunts his face. His stubble’s grown out making it more of a short beard, his hair is messy and unkempt. She leans over him, caressing his face, the chill of his skin shocks her.

“Hey,” she whispers softly, “I know you probably can’t hear me but, I want you to know that I’m here and I’m not leaving again…. I’m begging you. Lucifer, please wake up. Please… I can’t go on without you.

Pulling her hand away she looks at the gifts and cards, picking each one up, reading the messages inside. One is from the precinct and looks to have been signed by the majority of the detectives and the lieutenant. A large colourful card is from Ella, the message reads:

_Get well soon, Lucifer. Keeping you in my prayers. Also, hope you enjoy the bear! It reminded me of you. Lots of love, Ella x_

Of course Ella got him the bear. There’s a card from Linda along with a bouquet of colourful flowers that really make the room look less drab and a card from Patrick and the other staff at Lux. The one that stands out though, that really makes her smile for the first time in what feels like forever, is the hand-drawn card from Trixie and Dan. A picture of Lucifer with wings on the front, crudely drawn in crayon.

Sitting down in the chair, she takes his cold hand in hers and settles in once again. She feels more relaxed than she has been in days. It’s funny, being closer to him seems to do that. Her eyelids, heavy with the weight of a few restless nights, begin to droop and she lets herself drift off into a deep slumber.

 

When she wakes again the room is dark, one of the nurses must have switched the lights off. She blinks several times as she shakes the grogginess from sleep and tries to regain her vision. Only a single shaft of light breaks through the edge of the blind, cutting through the room and casting eerie shadows onto the bed. She stretches, yawning, and sits up straight in the chair.

It’s only then she notices the shadowy figure standing over the bed.

 

~

 

_Chloe…._

He tries to play it cool, be the suave Devil he is and not reveal how much she means to him despite the insistent thumping of his heart in his ears. He desperately hopes the Imposter can’t hear his heart beating triple time.

“What, pray tell, makes you think that showing me the Detective will make me take your so-called deal?”

The Imposter chuckles. “Don’t be coy with me, Samael. I know all too well how much she means to you.”

Lucifer swallows hard trying to hold back the wave of emotion that hits him. It begs the question again, _who_ or _what_ is this thing and how does it know about Chloe? What if it hurt her? It sounds like it’s willing to go to some lengths to get what it wants. He can’t let him hurt Chloe. He remains silent, gritting his teeth.

“Right. Well, you can die and go back to Hell, live out your life as its ruler and be a king!” the imposter says with a big grin, like ruling Hell is some kind of privilege and not, in fact, a torture in itself. His smile drops when Lucifer stays quiet. “Your human will be… _sad_ at first, but she will move on. Maybe even be happy again. Without you.”

The words sting.

“Or—this is the best part— you can stay here, in this place and your body will remain comatose forever. Your _detective_ will suffer for the rest of her puny, mortal life. She will live in hope of you waking up, only to die, unfulfilled, disappointed and alone. She will suffer, Samael, because of you.”

No. Every fibre of his being rebels against the idea of leaving Chloe to suffer.

“I—I can’t,” he whispers. “I just—I can’t….”

The imposter hums and checks his watch. “I suppose I can wait a while for you to think about it, though I’m not sure what you have to think about— the superior option is quite clear! You need to let go, Samael.”

He thinks about it for a moment. The idea of leaving his life on Earth, of leaving Chloe repulses him, but… if it means Chloe can be happy again does he have a choice?

“How am I to trust that you’ll keep your word?” he asks. “You won’t even show yourself to me.”

“Well,” the imposter drawls, “the way I see it, you don’t have any other choice but to trust me.” He looks around, gesturing to the vast emptiness that surrounds them. “Unless you think someone else can offer you better,” he chuckles, mocking.

He swallows, shaking his head. He needs to think.

So he stumbles away from his doppelganger and sets himself down on the floor when he’s put a suitable amount of distance between them.

He doesn’t want to go back to Hell, he’ll be trapped there, doomed to live out a miserable, meaningless existence. But, if he stays here the Detective will suffer _because of him…_. He can’t have that. He just can’t.

Why can’t things just go back to how they were? Who is this bloody pillock interfering with his life?

He can’t just let go. He loves Chloe with all of his heart, without her, he might as well be dead.

But his doppelganger’s words niggle at the back of his mind, eating away at him.

_“She will suffer, Samael, because of you.”_

He can’t leave her to suffer, he just can’t. If he dies at least she can move on. It will hurt at first, but eventually, the wound will heal.

She can move on.

Be happy.

_Without him._

Pain lances his heart. He hunches forward, cradling his head in his hands. He shouldn’t be hesitating. The decision should be easy. Either way he loses everything but, only one way she gets to be happy. He lets out a rueful chuckle, shaking his head.

He should have expected this.

For who is he to be allowed happiness. He’s the Devil, he can never be happy. He’d just been deluding himself thinking that he could be his own man. It was doomed from the start. Never meant to last.  

Right. That’s it then. He knows what he’s going to do. It’s for the best. He stands, steeling himself as he goes to make his deal.

 

~

 

Chloe leaps from her chair, heart pounding, startled by the figure looming ominously in the dark room. Her hand quickly finds the light switch, flicking it on, bathing the room in a harsh, artificial light that hurts her eyes, causing her to squint against it.

A short, olive skinned woman with a round face and soft features stares back at her from across the bed. She has short brown hair that frames her face and wide brown eyes, decorated with a perfect flick of eye liner. Staring into her eyes, Chloe can see that the woman is anything but threatening, in fact, she sees something familiar there. Something… _comforting._

“Who…” she begins, her voice shaky. She takes a breath, trying to calm her racing heart before continuing. “Who are you?”

Her eyes wander over the other woman. She wears a dark, plain robe fastened at the neck with an ornate metal clasp. Apart from that nothing else stands out.

The other woman takes a step back, her eyes fixed on Chloe. “You can see me?”

Chloe mutely nods. Why would she think that she couldn’t see her? Perhaps she’s a demon? Why would a demon be here?

“O-okay. This is… I’ll just,” she takes another step towards the door, “I’ll just be going. Sorry for scaring you.”

“No!”

The woman halts abruptly as her hand settles on the door handle but, she doesn’t turn around.  

“Who are you? Why did you come here? _Please.”_

For some reason she can’t explain she feels hope bloom within her at the mysterious visitor’s arrival. Whoever she is, she must’ve come here for a reason. Maybe she can help?

The woman turns around and glances between her and Lucifer’s still body. Slowly she advances forward, stopping by the side of the bed and takes Lucifer’s pale, slender hand in her own. Her gaze drops to her hand. “It’s Azrael but, you can call me Rae-Rae.”

“Azrael as in the angel of _death?_ ”

The woman nods.

As in Lucifer’s sister.

Chloe narrows her eyes, staring at her in disbelief. “The angel of _death_ goes by _Rae-Rae?_ ”

“It’s a, uh… nickname. Lu used to call me it when we were kids, you know.”

Hearing her endearingly refer to Lucifer as “Lu” causes her lips to twitch into a weak smile. She knows he’s not big on nicknames, but it oddly suits him. “What are you doing here? Have you come to take Lucifer?”

Azrael looks up at her in shock. “No! I don’t do that, not for angels anyway. I only deal with humans.”

“So… if you’re not here to take him then, what?”

Her face softens, her big brown eyes stare back at her. She looks… sad. “He’s my big brother… I check on him from time to time, you know, to see how he’s doing. When I saw what happened I thought it’d be like last time but, something’s wrong. I had to come see.”

“Last time? Last time what?”

Azrael swallows and then grimaces, looking like she’s said something that she shouldn’t have. “I… uh… don’t know if I should say.”

Chloe rolls her eyes, wondering if all angels are this dense. “ _Please.”_

She squeezes her eyes shut momentarily before letting out an annoyed noise. “Fine, fine,” she says holding her hands up in surrender. Then she shakes her head, muttering under her breath, “Lu’s gonna kill me….”

“ _Azrael.”_

“Okay, okay! Jeez… Last time Lucifer… um… died.” Azrael looks everywhere but at Chloe.

Her legs suddenly turn to jelly beneath her and she stumbles backwards into the chair. “He’s _died_ before? Like he was actually _killed,_ and he _died_?”

Azrael nervously shifts her weight from foot to foot, a mannerism similar to that of Lucifer’s. “Well, technically,” she says, dragging the syllables of the word out, “he killed himself. And then went to Hell.”

Chloe opens her mouth to respond, but Azrael continues, cutting her off.

“He came right back though!” She half shrugs. “Well, kind of….”

Her heart pounds like a jackhammer in her chest. Why would Lucifer kill himself? A multitude of questions swarm her like flies. Her mouth opens but the only word she can manage is, “ _Why?”_

The shorter woman shrugs again. “You’d have to ask him.” Her gaze flickers to him, lying in the bed. “All I know is if he went back to Hell willingly, he must have had a damn good reason.”

She takes a breath, filing the question away for later, directing her focus back to the angel in the room. “You said it was different last time, what did you mean by that?”

“Last time, his soul went straight to Hell. There’s no where else for it to go on account of him being _banned_ from Heaven and all. This time though….” Her eyes drop to his pale, lifeless form, “it’s like… he’s trapped. Not in Hell but not here either. Somewhere… _new.”_

What the _Hell_ is that supposed to mean? Chloe bites her bottom lip, worry gnawing at her insides like a starving rat. “Can you help him?” she asks, praying that the answer is yes because if it isn’t what hope is there? If the Angel of Death herself can’t help him then who can?

Azrael’s big, familiar brown eyes meet her own. “I don’t know…” she admits.

Chloe feels herself deflate, slumping backwards, holding her head in her hands. She hears light footsteps as Azrael approaches her and a warm hand comes to rest on her back. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I wish I could help.”

And then a gust of wind sweeps through the room, rustling the flower petals, causing a few to shake loose and float to the floor, and she’s gone.

She’s gone leaving Chloe feeling empty, all hope drained out of her, and so, she weeps. Weeps for the man who’s saved her countless times, who now needs saving himself and she has no idea how she’s supposed to do it.

 

The next few days pass in a blur. Dan visits with Trixie. She told him not to bring her, but the girl had cried down the phone, wailing that she missed her mother and Lucifer. Eventually Chloe had agreed.

Thankfully Dan makes himself scarce during the visit, leaving her alone with her daughter. Trixie cries when she sees Lucifer, pale and broken, lying immobile in the hospital bed.

“Why won’t he wake up?” she sobs into her mother’s arms.

Chloe swallows pushing back the tide of emotions that threatens to envelop her. She has to be strong, for her daughter and for Lucifer. “He’s hurt, Baby, he just needs to rest, that’s all.”

The girl’s sobs subside, and she looks up at her with big, teary eyes, her face red from crying. “So, he’s going to wake up?”

“I hope so, Monkey, I really do.”

She frees herself from her mother’s arms and walks over to the bed, pulling herself up onto the side. Chloe reaches out to stop her but changes her mind, reasoning that she can’t do much harm. “Baby, be careful please.”

She nods, and her concentration visibly strengthens as she settles herself against Lucifer’s side, taking extra care to avoid the IV lines and not to lean on his bandages. She drapes her little arms across his middle and closes her eyes, snuggling against him. The sight makes her heart melt.

 

Dan returns a couple of hours later, dropping a bag with more clean clothes for her at the and of the bed. He looks at her for a long moment, his eyes filled with concern. “When’s the last time you had a proper night’s sleep, Chlo?”

She opens her mouth to answer.

“And I mean in a bed, not that chair.”

She closes her mouth.

“You need to go _home_ , Chloe. You can’t go on like this.”

Her throat constricts. On some level she knows he’s right but, going home would be giving up and she can’t do that, not to him, not yet. She reaches out, gripping Lucifer’s hand. “I can’t Dan.”

Dan sighs, knowing that he can’t argue with her, or at least that he won’t win if he does.

“Alright. Just… please look after yourself.”

She nods, folding her arms across herself.

He moves towards the bed and attempts to scoop Trixie up in his arms, but she wakes up and holds onto Lucifer tightly. “C’mon Monkey, we have to go.”

“I don’t want to go,” she whines. “What if Lucifer wakes up?”

He looks like he’s about to say something but holds his tongue. The look on his face is enough to tell her what it was though. _He’s not going to._

“I want to stay here with Mommy.”

Dan sighs, glancing at Chloe. “Is that okay with you?

Chloe nods.

“Alright, Monkey, you can stay here for tonight, but I’ll be here to pick you up tomorrow, okay?”

“Deal,” Trixie replies, snuggling back into Lucifer’s side.

 

Chloe doesn’t sleep that night. She sits staring at her daughter, snoring softly next to Lucifer, her little hand holding his larger one.

Her thoughts are consumed with dread and hopelessness. Multiplied ten times over by the thought of her daughter’s heartbroken face when she will eventually have to tell her that there’s no hope. That he won’t wake up. For now, she seems happy enough though. Deep down she knows it’s wrong to give her false hope, but she can’t bring herself to tell her. Not yet.

 

In the morning, she takes Trixie down to the canteen for breakfast. The girl has sausage, eggs and beans whilst Chloe just has a breakfast bar. They talk about school and what she’s been doing with her dad, but her heart isn’t really in it. Trixie doesn’t seem to notice the hollowness eating at her mother as she happily munches on her sausage, her feet swinging against the plastic chair.

When she’s finished, she pushes her plate away with a smile and asks if she can get something from the vending machine. Chloe nods and digs in her pocket, pulling out a five dollar note. The girl snatches it and happily skips away.

Chloe watches her, wondering whether or not she should break her heart.

Trixie returns with a bar of chocolate and a packet of potato chips, just as Chloe is about to scold her for getting two things instead of one, the girl holds out the packet of chips to her mother.

“I got these for Lucifer, for when he wakes up,” she explains.

Chloe takes the packet and turns it over in her hands. Cool ranch puffs. The familiar sting of tears assaults her eyes as she stares down at the packet in her hand.

“They’re his favourite.” The girl smiles up at her. “What’s wrong Mommy? Why are you crying?”

Chloe immediately looks up from the packet, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “It’s nothing, Baby… I just miss Lucifer, that’s all.”

“Me too.”

 

Dan picks Trixie up later that day leaving Chloe alone once again. Occasionally a nurse will enter the room to check on him but aside from that, she’s alone.

Sighing, she picks up her phone and flicks through all the pictures she’d taken of them together.

The picture of Lucifer and Trixie sleeping on the couch after he’d fallen asleep on movie night.

All of them on the beach.

Their day at Disneyland.

She looks between his still form in the bed and the pictures on her phone. How could they have fallen so far so quickly? They’d barely even had a chance.

“Please, Lucifer, I’m begging you, please wake up,” she says, gripping his hand tight, offering her plea.

And then the unthinkable happens.

 

~

 

Lucifer stands facing his doppelganger.

“If I take your deal can you promise me the Detective will be left alone and unharmed?”

The doppelganger sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not the one that’s hurting her, Samael. You are,” he says with a nasty, smile that’s all teeth.

Lucifer swallows, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Please just… promise me. Promise me that she’ll be left alone to live out her life in peace.” He doesn’t usually beg but, with the Detective’s life on the line he will do anything. Even if it means throwing away his last shred of dignity.

“Yes, yes. We will not interfere with her life so long as she still lives.” He adds with a smug smirk, “ _cross my heart.”_

“Good. Then, I accept, on one condition.”

“Oh, come now Samael, you aren’t in a position to make demands here.”

Lucifer ignores him. “Let me hear her voice. One last time.”

His doppelganger rubs his chin, considering it. After a long moment he replies, “Fine, but only because seeing you torture yourself over a _mortal_ is just about the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in eons.” He grins, wide and menacing, the kind that says _I-feed-off-your-suffering_.

_“Please, Lucifer, I’m begging you, please wake up.”_

His knees feel weak beneath him at the pain that laces her voice. The last thing he’ll ever hear her say reminding him of how much he’s hurt her. He supposes it’s what he deserves.

Steeling himself, he meets his reflection’s eyes. “What are you waiting for? Take me to eternal damnation and get it over with already,” he snaps.

“I’m sorry, Love,” he whispers as his doppelganger reaches out, placing an arm on his and in the blink of an eye the world turns black.


	10. Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to NotOneLine for betaing this chapter for me! You're a star! <3  
> Title credit goes to Sia.
> 
> *spoiler-y warning* I.e. if you don’t want the heartbreak stop at the asterisks (***)

The intrusive sound of the ECG slices through the air like a hot knife through butter, the once intermittent beeping now one harsh, long note. Her whole body tenses, gripping his cold hand in a vice-like manner.

At first her mind rebels, refusing to believe what is happening right in front of her. It’s a mistake, surely. The machine has to be broken, yes. That’s it, the machine is broken. Her hand instinctively reaches for his chest, searching for the soothing rise and fall of his shallow breathing, but doesn’t find it. His chest is still. He isn’t breathing. She shakes her head, tears spilling from her eyes, blurring her vision as she realises that it’s true. All this time she’s been falling deeper and deeper and now she’s finally hit the bottom with soul shattering force. She’s empty, rooted to the spot, stuck in this horrible moment. If she moves though, time will have to crawl on, and she will have to live her life without him.

She doesn’t know how she can do that.

He is everything to her. Her heart and soul. He makes her a better detective, a better person. Makes her laugh with his inappropriate comments and makes her cry with his caring ones. He is truly the light of her life and without him the world is a dark, desolate wasteland that she has no desire to remain in.

After what feels like too long a moment, she comes to her senses, leaping into action towards the door. He needs help. He’ll be fine, he just needs help. She repeats that over and over, the only thing keeping her from collapsing into a useless pile on the floor. When her hand grabs the handle though, the sound of the heart monitor stuttering back into life and harsh gasping sounds has her spinning on her heel.

His eyes are open and filled with panic as he struggles to comprehend where he is and what’s going on.

“Lucifer,” she breathes rushing over to him, almost falling over her own feet as the rapid shift in emotions leaves her feeling light headed. She reaches out for his hand, grabbing it firmly in hers. “Lucifer?” He doesn’t respond though. He simply stares, unseeing at the ceiling, fear clouding his dark brown eyes. “Lucifer? Can you hear me?”

No response. The sound of the door swinging open and nurses entering the room vaguely registers. One woman takes her hand, leading her away from him, asking her to sit outside for a few moments. She nods. The sudden flurry of activity renders her unable to put up any sort of resistance. She leans against the wall outside of his room and promptly slides down it. Her shirt rides up her waist, allowing the coldness from the wall to seep into her skin. She slouches, hunched over on the floor, her neck refusing to hold the weight of her head, so her hands take over.

He’s awake.

A loud, ugly sob escapes her, wracking her body.

_He’s awake._

 

~

 

Bright, white light penetrates his eyelids, filling his vision with an orangey hue. His lungs burn as though he’s been starved of oxygen for some time. Gasping for air, his eyes fly open.

Something is very wrong.

His brain barely registers the small room he’s in or the bed beneath him but. The light of the sun filtering through the window, the ache in his chest.

It’s all wrong.

He should be in Hell.

This isn’t Hell. That… _thing_ tricked him.

“ _Lucifer.”_

He hears her voice, but it sounds far away.

Black spots bombard his vision, and his head swims as he struggles to pull himself from the grasp of unconsciousness that’s trying to drag him down.

_“Lucifer?”_

It’s a trick. It has to be. She can’t be here.

His heart pounds hard in his chest as he fights a losing battle to stay awake and is pulled into blackness once again.

 

~

 

It’ll take a few hours they say, before he wakes up properly. His eyes occasionally flutter open causing her to sit up straighter, pulling his hand close to her in the hope that this time he will wake up for good, but they soon close again. He moves more. Even mumbles in his sleep. It reassures her that he’s back even if she wants more than anything for him to be awake properly.

She waits hopefully for hours. She doesn’t call anyone yet, not wanting to get their hopes up too soon. Eventually he opens his eyes and they stay open. She leans forward in her chair, holding his hand through the gap in the bed rail.

“Lucifer?”

His head turns slowly training his unfocused gaze on her the best he can.

“Hey!” she says, her lip trembling in a watery smile.

He blinks slowly. “Ch-Ch- loe?” His voice is gravelly and cracked from disuse.

“Yeah, I’m here!” Tears spill over, rolling down her cheeks. He’s actually awake and it feels like she’s just woken up from the longest, most realistic nightmare she’s ever had.

A weak cough wracks his body as he attempts to clear his throat, but he winces in pain at the movement. “Here,” she says, filling up a small cup with water and pressing it to his lips, “drink this.” He tilts his head, greedily supping up the water. He still looks weak, hollow in the face and far too tired for someone who’s been asleep for three weeks.

“T-thank you. W-where ‘m I?” he mumbles.

“You’re in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

He hums what she takes to be an affirmative.

She smiles softly, placing the cup down and runs her hand through his damp curls, massaging patterns onto his scalp. He slumps back into the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut and lets out a tiny groan.

She doesn’t know what to say so she simply sits there, stroking his soft, unruly hair and basking in his presence.

He opens his eyes, furrowing his brows, a glint in his eye that looks… sad? “T-this isn’t real… is it?”

She frowns but chalks it up to the confusion of being unconscious for so long. “It’s real,” and at his unconvinced stare she adds, “I promise, Lucifer, this is very real.”

“N-no… it can’t be….”

Standing, she leans over him pressing her lips against his clammy forehead. “It is.”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes. “I don’t understand. I-I died… I shouldn’t be here.”

“You got better.”

“H-How?”

A small laugh escapes her lips. “I don’t know, you just did. I promise you, this… _I_ am real.”

He shakes his head again, “I don’t understand….”

“You don’t have to understand, just trust me, Lucifer, this is real.”

He looks at her like he does sometimes, that soft, adoring gaze he reserves for her alone that makes her want to hold him and never let go. “I-I trust you.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, caressing his face, her fingers skimming the top of his short beard. “How do you feel?”

He grimaces. “Like some bloody—” He coughs violently, his face contorting in pain. She rubs his shoulder, offering him more water but he refuses. “Like some bloody pillock shot me, that’s how I feel. How long have I been…?”

“Three weeks.”

His eyes widen, and he looks on at her with concern coating his features. “Three weeks….”

She nods, pursing her lips and resting her hand on the top of his. “It’s been… _Hell.”_

He looks back at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, Love.”

“No,” she says firmly, “you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m just glad you’re back.”

“So am I.” He lifts his hand, shakily exploring the bandages that cover his chest, wincing at the slightest touch. “I don’t understand….”

She raises her eyebrows. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.”

“No, I mean, I don’t understand why I haven’t healed….” He looks contemplative for a long moment, staring at the far end of the room and then, suddenly, turns back to her. “Have you been here this whole time?”

His tone implies that he’s more concerned about her than himself. Her heart swells.

“Most of the time…. I would’ve stayed all the time, but Maze kicked me out for a few days. You didn’t heal though so, she said I could come back.”

He hums, his gaze fixed on her, concern clouding his dark eyes. “When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep, Love?”

“Why is everyone so concerned about me? You’re the one who almost died, Lucifer!” she snaps at him. He just tilts his head at her and begins to attempt to shuffle himself in the bed putting more distance between them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, I just—”

“Come here,” he says, patting the small space he’s managed to make by squishing himself against the opposite bedrail.

She blinks, realising what he’s asking. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she says, even though there’s nothing she wants to do more right now than to cuddle up next to him.

“You won’t.”

Hesitantly she lifts herself from the chair and pulls herself into the small bed, absently wondering how he’s managed to make his large frame so small. His arm drapes around her, pulling her in tight as she lays on her side with her head on his shoulder. She snakes her arm around his waist, careful to avoid his injuries. “Is this okay?”

“Perfect…” he murmurs, sounding woozy with sleep.

She lays there, listening as his breathing evens out and deepens. Her own eyelids start to droop and suddenly she can’t fight to keep them open, she doesn’t want to anymore. So, she lets herself drift, running her fingers over his bare, still cold skin one last time as if to check he is in fact real and gives in to sleep’s sweet embrace.

 

When she awakes from her deep, dreamless slumber, she feels more refreshed than she has in weeks. She cracks her eyes open to see a pair of chocolate brown ones staring back at her.

“Hello, Love,” he says softly. He looks better than he had done before. He’s still cold and still has more lines in his face than were there before but his skin is a little pinker, face a little less hollow.

“Hey,” she says, blinking away the grogginess of sleep. Her head thumps. The room is still filled with sunlight, and judging from the heaviness of her limbs she must have slept at least twelve hours, maybe more. She squints up at him. “Have you been watching me sleep?”

“Of course,” he replies nonchalantly, “it’s not often one wakes to find a woman as beautiful, as radiant as you in my arms. So, I took advantage of the situation.”

She laughs, snuggling deeper into the crook of his neck whilst he presses a kiss to the top of her head, lingering in the moment, inhaling her.

Sighing happily, she wishes she could extend this moment, live in it forever. In the overwhelming sense of bliss she gets from just being in his arms.

A loud crunch startles them both into looking up. Lucifer lets out a pained, “Ouch,” at the sudden movement.

“Ugh,” Maze grumbles with a disgusted look on her face as she munches on the packet of cool ranch puffs, leaning against the wall in the corner of the room. “Are you guys always this _soppy?_ You’re making me wanna barf.”

Chloe rolls her eyes and helps Lucifer sit up. “Mazikeen!”

“What happened, Lucifer?”

He lets out an annoyed grumble. “Well, I was _shot_ for starters.”

“No, I mean after that. I couldn’t feel your soul, it was like you were… _gone,_ but you were still here.”

“I have no idea. I expected to find myself in Hell, but I was _trapped_ in this kind of limbo…. Someone else was there though….”

The demon snarls. “Who?! I’ll hunt them down and make them pay.”

Lucifer shakes his head. “I don’t know. Whoever it was disguised themselves.”

“Oh.”

“How could someone trap you? They’d have to be pretty powerful right?” Chloe chimes in, well aware that this sort of thing is waaaay outside of her area of expertise.

Maze snorts, leaving Lucifer with his mouth hanging open. “It’s easier than you’d think Decker. Remember when you were trapped in that freezer?” She doubles over with laughter, almost losing her balance in the process.

Chloe raises an eyebrow. _The Devil_ trapped in a _freezer?_ The mental image of Lucifer’s long frame squishing into one of those 50’s style fridge-freezers like that scene from _Indiana Jones_ floats into her mind’s eye which she promptly shakes away.

Lucifer glowers, baring his teeth, letting out a growl that human vocal cords couldn’t reproduce. “Remember who you’re talking to, Mazikeen.”

The demon’s fit of laughter subsides, and she directs a flat glare at him. “Pfft. What’re you gonna do about it? You can’t even stand.”

He crosses his arms and grumbles, “I could’ve gotten out of there if I’d tried.”

“Whatever,” she replies flippantly, waving a dismissive hand as she strides towards the door. “I’ll leave you two to…” she glances backwards, making a face like she’s tasted something sour, “do whatever you were doing. Bounties ain’t gonna catch themselves.”

And with that she’s gone, leaving them alone again.

“ _Freezer?”_ Chloe asks, shooting him a puzzled look.

He hunches his shoulders and pouts a little, which has her smiling. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

The rest of the day passes in a flurry of activity. Doctors poke and prod at Lucifer, performing this test and that, assessing his health and trying to figure out why he was out for so long. They come up empty. Lucifer had said he’d been trapped and that means that someone or something celestial was behind this. Or so she assumed. Celestial soul-knapping wasn’t covered in her police training.

The doctor say they would like to keep him under observation pending further notice. She expects Lucifer to kick up a fuss over it, if not outright refuse to stay, but he doesn’t. When she glances across at him, he sits, staring blankly at the doctor as she talks to him. Worry settles in the pit of her stomach.

As soon as the doctor leaves the room, she perches on the edge of the bed, taking his face in her hand, gently guiding him to face her. He still feels cold to the touch yet clammy.

“Hey,” she says softly, eyes roaming over his face. His eyes look uncharacteristically weary with dark bags underneath and though his pallor has improved, he’s still paler than he should be. He gives her a wan smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “How’re you doing?”

His smile fades and his eyes glisten with a sad quality.

“Not feeling so good, huh?” She brushes a stray lock of hair away from his forehead and runs her fingers through his messy curls.

He shakes his head meekly, sighing heartily. “I feel… drained… weak.”

“Am I stopping you from healing?” The realisation that she might be the reason he’s in pain once again hits her like a freight train.

His brows knit, and he looks deep in thought for a moment. She’ll leave in a heartbeat if it means he’ll get better, despite the cry in her heart that wants nothing more than to stay beside him. “I… I don’t think so. It feels like that place… _drained_ my power. I can feel it trickling back, though.”

“Do you want me to go? Just in case—”

“No,” he says quickly with such desperation, so confidently that it makes her heart soar. Because he’s here and he wants her to stay as much as she wants to. “Please stay.”

She smiles softly, taking his hand in hers. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

He visibly relaxes and returns her smile. It’s one of those genuine smiles that makes his eyes twinkle, one that she so rarely sees, but would love to see more of.

“Why don’t you get some rest?”

He sighs, “I feel like all I’ve done is bloody sleep. I don’t know how you humans do it.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “ _Us humans_ need to sleep, especially when we’re sick, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. We could watch some tv if you feel up to it?”

He nods.

As she rises from the bed to pull her laptop out of her rucksack, she notices him pull the covers up around himself. Looking back on him with concern she says, “Are you cold?”

He frowns. “I think so….”

“You think?”

“It’s been a while,” he says and at her blank stare he adds, “Divinity is quite warm, Darling. Being _cold_ isn’t something I’m exactly used to.”

Oh. That explains why he always feels so warm.

“Here,” she says, pulling Dan’s baggy, old LAPD hoodie out of the rucksack along with her laptop, handing it to him. She’d commandeered it a long time ago and had never gotten around to giving it back. It’s just so comfortable to wear when no one else is around to see. “Put this on.”

He doesn’t reach out to take it from her, so she drops it into his lap. He stares down at it with a blank look.

She stares at him, regarding the piece of worn material like he has no idea what to do with it. “Lucifer?”

“Hmm?”

“Put it on, it’ll keep you warm.” He still looks apprehensive.

He blinks a few times before giving in and attempting to pull it over his head. He makes a pained noise when he lifts his left arm to put in the sleeve and stops, holding it close to him.

She’s at his side in a flash and gently pulls the hoodie over his head, managing to get his arm in without lifting it too high.

“Thank you,” he says with such genuine gratitude in his voice that anyone would think she’d just saved his life not helped him put a hoodie on.

“That’s okay,” she says settling on the bed next to him in the space he’s reserved for her. “Is that better?”

“Much,” he nods before settling his head on her shoulder.

She presses her lips against his temple in a soft kiss before placing the laptop in front of them. “What do you want to watch?” she asks, opening Netflix.

 “I don’t mind.”

She flicks through the ‘recommended for you’ section. It really is all over the place with suggestions, probably down to the fact that between working full time and being a single mom, she doesn’t often get time to watch tv. “See anything you fancy?”

“What’s _Daredevil?_ ”

She hums. “I think it’s a superhero thing? I don’t really know.” She clicks the box and lets the trailer play. Lucifer grumbles under his breath all the way through it.

“Hm. As much as I approve of his vigilante punishment, prancing around in that ridiculous outfit and calling himself _the Devil of Hell’s kitchen_ is just downright offensive. Hell doesn’t even have a kitchen, for goodness sake. I am not—"

“Lucifer?” she interrupts his rant, not able to stop the smile that tugs at her lips.  

“Hmm?”

“It’s just a tv show.”

He mumbles something about his reputation and falls silent.

Moving on then. She clicks the trailer for _the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina._ She remembers watching _Sabrina the Teenage Witch_ on tv as a teenager instead of learning her lines for auditions. It looks nothing like the show she remembers. Lucifer perks up next to her, pointing at the screen wildly.

“What _the bloody Hell_ was that? Was that _goat-man_ meant to be _me?!_ Why do they always insist on associating me with those _foul creatures?”_ He glowers, folding his arms across himself and pouting a little.

She admires him out of the side of her vision. He looks positively adorable when he’s flustered, she muses.

“What?” he asks sounding irritated as he notices her looking at him.

She smiles. “I was just thinking how cute you are when you’re flustered.”

“The Devil is _not_ cute.”

“Whatever you say,” she laughs. “Hey, have you ever seen _Friends?_ That always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”

It turns out he hadn’t seen it and so they watch _Friends,_ snuggling up closely in the tiny bed. His head resting on her shoulder and her arms wrapped around him, her hand carding soothing patterns through his hair until, about 7 episodes in, he drifts into a peaceful slumber. She pauses the program and cradles the Devil in her arms, gently presses a kiss to his temple and settles beside him, dropping off to sleep in a matter of moments.

 

The soft light of dawn’s first break filters through the open blinds, stinging her eyes and rousing her from her sleep. Cracking her eyes open she sees Lucifer, still fast asleep next to her with a peaceful look on his face and his lips pressed into an almost smile. He looks so much younger in his sleep. So peaceful and innocent. She wonders if he always looked like that before… well, _everything._

With a content sigh she gently brushes his unruly curls away from his forehead and carefully extricates herself from his grip. As much as she would love to stay in bed with him, nature’s call must be answered.

She changes and freshens up before grabbing her phone from the bedside table. She checks the time and dials Dan, slipping outside into the hallway as to not disturb Lucifer. She’d let Dan and Trixie know that he had woken up the day before but had asked that they wait to visit until she was sure that Lucifer was feeling up to it. Trixie can be quite a handful and she doesn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable whilst he is recuperating.

The phone rings a few times whilst she wanders down the hallway to the coffee machine that she’s grown so used to over the past couple of weeks. Dan finally answers just as she reaches the machine and jams the phone against her shoulder, awkwardly rummaging in her pocket for cash and inserting it into the slot.

 _“Hey Chloe, what’s up?” he says,_ and then a shrill voice in the background squeals, _“Is that Mommy? Can we go see Lucifer yet?”_

Chloe chuckles, wondering how many times she’s asked him that since yesterday.

“Hey Dan, Lucifer seems a bit better if you want to swing by later today?”

There’s the distinct sound of her daughter whooping in the background of the call before Dan chuckles and replies, _“Yeah, after lunch sound good?”_

“Yeah, sounds great, see you then.”

She hangs up the phone, manoeuvring it away from her shoulder and pocketing it with care as she tries not to spill her coffee. Picking up the second cup of coffee, she retrieves a packet of cool ranch puffs from the vending machine and heads back to the room.

When she enters, she notices that he hasn’t moved, but his eyes are open.

“Morning sleepy Devil,” she says smiling as she perches on the side of the bed and places her bounty down on the table. “Got you a coffee, you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want, though.” He probably won’t like it. It’s akin to the precinct coffee which he usually turns his nose up at or spikes rather generously.

“Thank you,” he says, offering her a weak, put on smile that doesn’t stick around for very long.

“How are you feeling?” She asks the question knowing all too well that he isn’t feeling himself just yet. She can tell by the sole fact that he hasn’t once complained about being stuck in the hospital or being bored.

She smiles warmly, stroking his cheek. He feels warmer than he had done. Not yet back to his full angelically-warm self but it’s an improvement. “Bit better,” he replies, pushing his head into her touch in a very cat-like movement, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Feel up to some visitors a bit later?”

He opens one eye to look at her. “Sir _Douche_ and the Spawn, I presume?”

She nods, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Is that okay? Trix is dying to see you.”

“Of course.”

She rubs along his cheekbone with her thumb, the hairs of his short beard tickling her palm. He hums in pleasure. “Feels nice…” he murmurs, “but,” he pulls away from her, rubbing his own hand against his shaggy half beard with a distasteful expression. “I need a shave. I must look like some kind of mountain man.”

“A _sexy_ mountain man,” she chuckles.

“Really?” he asks, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

Shrugging, she says, “I like it, and the curls.”

He huffs, shaking his head, making a disgusted noise. “They can go as well… horrid things they are.”

He groans as he shakily attempts to lift himself from the bed.

“You need a hand?” she asks, rising to stand beside him.

He holds the bed rail in a white-knuckle grip. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d left indentations in it, considering his inhuman strength

“I’m not an invalid,” he huffs in annoyance between ragged breaths.

She smiles fondly at him; sometimes it’s like talking to a teenager. “I know you’re not, but it’s okay to need help, Lucifer. I know you’re not used to showing weakness, but you can around me. Okay?”

He studies her outstretched hand for a long moment before nodding and taking it, allowing her to support some of his weight. “Thank you,” he says with such heartfelt gratitude that anyone would think she’d just given him the moon.

 

An hour or so later, he emerges from the small bathroom, back to his familiar look of perfectly trimmed five o’clock shadow and coiffed hair. Although it doesn’t quite match with the baggy, washed out hoodie or leggings that he’s wearing. She helps him back to the edge of the bed where he sits and stares out the small window at the unremarkable view.

His lunch sits on the table for him, but he pays it no heed.

“You hungry?” she asks, attempting to silence her own growling stomach.

He shakes his head.

“Do you need to eat? Because you’re immortal I mean, well… most of the time.” It’s a question she’s wondered about for a while.

He hums but doesn’t look away from the window. “Of course. I need to sustain myself just as any of Dad’s creatures do. Eating, drinking, sleeping. Just not as much as humans.”

“Oh. You should try to eat something then. It’ll make you feel better.”

He turns, giving her a pleading look.

“Please, Lucifer. Just try, for me?” she says knowing all too well he has an inexplicable inability to say no to her.

He caves almost immediately. “Fine. On one condition.” He holds up his index finger to her. “Share it with me.”

Had he heard her stomach growling? With his celestial hearing, the answer is probably yes. “Deal.”

So, they share the meal and it isn’t actually too bad, considering it’s hospital food. Lucifer surprisingly doesn’t complain.

 

A while later a knock comes at the door and Trixie followed by a less enthused Dan enter the room, the latter choosing to linger in the doorway.

“LUCIFER!” she squeals as she barrels towards him, only to be intercepted by her mother halfway there, leaving Lucifer mid-flinch.

She holds her daughter’s hand tightly as she tries to wiggle free. “Monkey, listen. Lucifer’s hurt, okay? Be gentle.”

Trixie nods vigorously and totters off to the bed where she pulls herself up to sit next to him. “Hi Lucifer,” she says, clearly making an effort to restrain herself and leaving space between them. Lucifer looks down at her with an expression that Chloe would almost say is… fond? “I’m glad you’re better. I missed you.”

“As am I, Spawn,” he replies with a little smile on his face.

She takes a moment to look him up and down before asking, “Can I give you a hug?”

Chloe finds herself holding her breath to hear his answer. Yes, he’d always been skittish around Trixie, but she suspects that it has something to do with the erratic nature of her movements. She’d never actually asked him if she could have a hug before.

“I… suppose that wouldn’t be completely awful…. Yes.” The words seem to come out of his mouth, but he looks confused by them. Like he’d said it without thinking about it. Who knew, Lucifer ‘ _The Devil Himself’_ Morningstar could be so good with kids. It warms her heart.

She inches closer to him, carefully wrapping her arms around his midriff. He looks slightly awkward, but after a moment his hands find purchase on her back, making small patting motions. Chloe’s heart melts. Trixie proceeds to catch him up on everything that had happened since he’d been in hospital to which Lucifer actually looks to take an interest. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that underneath all his uncertainty, he’s actually really great with Trixie.

Dan watches on from the doorway smiling at the pair as Chloe moves to join them on the bed, though there’s something in his eyes that she can’t quite place. He almost looks sad. He nods to her as he notices her watching him and quietly slips out of the room before she can say anything.

 

They spend the next couple of hours chatting and playing Scrabble, which Trixie had brought from home. Lucifer wins though his score isn’t quite as high as the last time they’d played, and he helped Trixie quite a lot, placing her in second.

“You owe me twenty-two words,” Trixie tells him as Chloe packs up the game. Lucifer is looking tired and it’s almost time for tea, so Dan should really be taking Trixie home soon.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Excuse me?”

“You said that you’d teach me a new word every day and you haven’t, so you owe me twenty-two words.”

“Ah.” He nods. “Right, I suppose I do.” He sighs wearily.

“Hey Monkey, why don’t you ask him another time?” She nods to Dan who has appeared in the door again.

“Yeah, come on Monkey, we need to go.”

“Awwwww! Do I have to? Can’t I just stay here with Mommy and Lucifer?” she whines.

Chloe laughs. “No Baby, everything will be back to normal again soon though, I promise.”

“Fine,” she agrees with a little pout. She rushes to hug Lucifer who makes a surprised noise at the sudden contact but doesn’t resist. Dan ambles into the room, retrieving Trixie’s backpack and the scrabble box before herding the girl away from Lucifer.

On his way out he turns back to Lucifer and with a thin lipped smile says, “Hey, I just…” he swallows hard, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “I just wanted to say that I’m glad you’re okay, Man. And, I… uh… I’m sorry about how I treated you. I had no right to blame you for Charlotte.” He looks down at the floor for a moment and then back up at Lucifer with a sad little smile. “I’m sure Chloe’s already told you, but we caught the guy that did this to you. Cuffed him myself.”

“I… thank you, Daniel,” Lucifer says, sounding more than a little choked up.

Dan bobs his head once before slipping out of the room without another word.

 

After they’ve gone, Lucifer shuffles back into bed, pulling Chloe down beside him and holding her close to his side.  

“You’re really great with Trixie, you know. She adores you.”

He stiffens and moves himself to look down at her with a surprised look on his face. “She does?” The uncertainty in his voice tugs at her heart strings. Knowing who he is certainly explains a lot about him and his capacity, or lack thereof, to be loved, to be accepted for who he is. She supposes being cast out and vilified for an eternity would do that to anyone and she wonders if the damage done can ever be reversed. Will he ever truly believe that she loves him? Maybe if she tells him enough, he will start to believe it.

“She does, and so do I.” The look of amazement on his face is like she’s saying something like that for the first time, reinforcing her theory. She leans up bringing her lips to his, shaking him from his stupor. “I love you, Lucifer Morningstar.”

 

Over the next few days he starts to show major improvement. She can tell by the gradual increase in complaints that she receives.

“This is boring,” he whines. “I don’t need to be here. I should just check myself out.”

She sighs, rolling her eyes. “Yes, you do and no, you’re not.” She grabs her phone and her earbuds and hands them to him, “Here, you wanna listen to some music?”

He eyes the phone and shrugs.

“Look,” she sits down on the bed beside him, taking his face in her hand, “I know you’re bored but, it’ll just be a little longer, okay? You’ll be out of here in no time.”

He nods and smiles at her, taking the earbuds and offering her one, which she takes. She lets him pick, considering how last time he’d been near her music he’d commented several times about how bad her taste is. To her surprise though he goes straight for _Eternal Flame_ by the Bangles.

He rocks his head along to the melody and pulls her close to him. She closes her eyes and it takes her right back to that club with Lucifer on stage, singing this to her. “You know, I much prefer your version.”

He chuckles and starts to sing along with it.

Wrapping her arms around his middle, feeling his warmth and listening to his angelic voice, she wonders how she had ever gotten so lucky.

 

A few days later he’s released with strict instructions to take care and get plenty of rest. He changes into a tight, pleasingly so, might she add, black t-shirt and jeans which Dan had kindly swung by his place for when he’d brought her clothes. He stands at the end of the bed, still looking slightly uncomfortable with his left arm held close to himself, a clear plastic bag with his belongings in clutched in his other hand. He watches as she packs away the rest of her stuff into her bag.

Glancing around the room one last time she happily finds that she’s gathered everything. “You ready?”

He nods.

Placing her hand on the small of his back, she leads him out of the room to freedom.

 

When they step out of the main doors he freezes, sighing a deep and content sigh. She smiles. He’s obviously glad to be out of there. She knows that she is.

He’s silent most of the way back in the car. It’s unusual for him but she supposes he must have a lot going on in his head right now. He stares out of the window, deep in thought until suddenly he breaks the silence. “Thank you.”

She frowns wondering what’s suddenly made him say that. “What for?”

He shrugs. “I… I suppose for everything, but mostly for being here.”

Sparing a quick glance away from the road, she looks at him. His face is soft, and the gratitude he feels is evident just in the way he looks at her. “Lucifer… you don’t have to thank me for anything. I’ll always be here for you, for whatever you need.”

She remembers the conversation she’d had with Azrael and the information she’d disclosed. It isn’t something she wants to bother him with now, when he’s still not better. Not fully anyway. At some point though, she will ask him for an explanation, if it was true that he had killed himself. Why he would do such a thing? Maybe he suffers from depression? She wouldn’t guess it from his usually extremely gleeful self, but then it’s usually the people you least expect. It would make sense, after all he’s been through. For now, she knows he needs someone just to be there for him. They will talk properly when he’s back to normal.

 

He stays at hers for a few days, so she can keep an eye on him, make sure he’s resting and not putting too much strain on himself. It’s nice. Eventually the day comes when she has to head back to work, she’d already used all her time off and the lieutenant wasn’t likely to give her anymore. She tells Lucifer that he can stay at hers, but he says he really should get back to Lux. Reluctantly she agrees, dropping him off on the way to work.

Before he gets out of the car she leans across and kisses him passionately, almost desperately. The thought of being away from him is a little too much to bear after what feels like so long together.  

He responds, deepening the kiss and gently running a hand through her loose hair.

“I love you,” she murmurs against his lips.

“And I you,” he says, pulling back to look into her eyes, his dark irises a swirling, turbulent oblivion filled with love for her. He smiles softly. “Dinner tonight?”

The request catches her off guard. She’d expected him to distance himself a bit once he was home, but no, it seems the opposite is true. “Sure,” she says returning his smile. “I’ll pick you up after work?”

“Perfect. Have a nice day, Love,” he says, giving her a quick, soft peck on the cheek and exiting the car.

 ***

~

 

Lucifer feels fantastic. Well, as much as one can feel when one has a semi-healed hole in their chest. It still hurts a bit, but nowhere near as much as it had done. Anyway, it doesn’t matter because he has Chloe and for once in his long life, he can say he’s happy.

True happiness.

It isn’t something he thought he’d ever be granted.

He smiles, glancing upwards.

 

He strides into his penthouse, taking a deep breath and basking in the familiarity of the place. Dropping his bag on the floor, he makes for the bar, pouring himself two fingers of his favourite scotch. He downs it, holding it in his mouth for a moment, savouring the rich taste on his tongue. Swallowing he puts the glass down and heads for his piano, lifting the lid and ghosting his fingers over the ivory keys. Plucking out a single note, he grimaces. The thing needs a tuning and a half.

A gust of wind sweeps through the place, causing him to look up from the instrument to the source at the far end of the apartment. A shadowy figure stands, framed by black wings. He recognises him immediately. It can be no coincidence that he’s showing up now.

Striding towards the figure he sees the light catch something in his hand. A long, blade.

_The blade._

“Michael,” he spits, his name tasting sour on his tongue and ruining his good mood.

“Samael.” His brother looks up, sneering. The light catches his face in a way that makes him look menacing.

Lucifer huffs. How he hates that name. “What are you doing here, Mike?” he snaps.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Afraid not. Perhaps you’d like to enlighten me?”

Michael chuckles, a harsh, nasty sound that reverberates through the apartment. “Why, to finish what I started of course.”

Like always his brother is talking in riddles. “What exactly is that supposed to mean, Brother?” He spits the last word, more an insult than a term of endearment. Mocking him. Because he isn’t his brother any longer. Not after what he did.

“Must I _always_ spell it out for you, Sam?” the angel asks, sighing over dramatically. “I’m to take you back to Hell, by _any_ means necessary. You’ve been allowed to roam free for far too long. It will not be tolerated any longer.”

He can only laugh, a nasty, bitter sound back at him.

“It’s going to happen whether you like it or not, Sam. I already failed once having that miserable little human try to kill you.”

Lucifer blinks back at him. How did he know about his mortality? He opens his mouth, but Michael anticipates the question before it even leaves his lips.

“And before you waste your breath asking, I know all about you and your little _miracle.”_ He pauses, eyes falling to the floor. “I didn’t want to have to do this, Sam. But you leave me no choice. Come with me to Hell, or I’m afraid I shall have to force you.” His grip on the blade tightens.

“I gave you a choice before. Far too gracious if you ask me, but that doesn’t matter now. Somehow…” he shakes his head, “somehow you managed to worm your way out of it like the _lying_ piece of _scum_ that you are.”

Lucifer balls his fits at his sides, his nails digging painfully into his palm. “ _I didn’t lie._ ” He grinds the words out through gritted teeth.

“We made a deal and you didn’t hold up your end. I’ve got to give it to you,” he sighs, his steely gaze weighing Lucifer up, “I don’t know how you did it. I’ll admit, I thought it was a fool-proof venture, I really did.”

How did he do it? That’s the question isn’t it? Because he didn’t _do_ anything. He agreed to the deal and the next thing he knew he woke up in the hospital. “I didn’t _do_ anything. You plan was defective, obviously.”

Michael laughs. “I assure you, it wasn’t defective.”

Lucifer scoffs. He would say that. Ever the self-righteous, holier than thou prick Michael is. He could never admit to doing anything wrong.

“Besides, it’s a moot point now. You’re here. I can’t allow this to go on any longer,” he continues. Lucifer just stare back at him an eyebrow raised, wondering when exactly he’s going to get to the point. “Enough is enough.”

Lucifer frowns. “Enough of _what_ exactly?”

“ _You. Here._ On _Earth._ I can’t allow you to stay here.”

He shakes his head in response, his lips parting, but words don’t seem to form. He blinks a few times as his brother stares back at him, expectantly waiting for a response.

Why now? Amenadiel had tried and failed to take him back to Hell, eventually giving up. So why does Michael want him to go back now? And why had he used a human to do it rather than just face him himself? “I don’t understand…” His frown deepens, face creasing. “Amenadiel he—”

“Amenadiel failed. I will not. Not again.”

“But why now? After everything… why?”

He chuckles. It’s an ugly sound. “You really don’t get it do you? We were content to let you stay here as long you weren’t hurting anyone, but we both no that that is no longer true, don’t we? You broke the number one rule, Sam, and we simply cannot allow you to go around killing humans as you see fit.”

“But—”

“No. It’s done. You can’t stay here. I will not allow it. I thought that if I let you make the choice it’d be easier, in the long run, for both of us.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but Michael cuts him off.

“Come on, Sam, I’m not a monster. I don’t wish you or your pet _human_ to be miserable, but this is how it has to be. Now, I’m giving you another choice. Come with me willingly. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“No,” he snarls in return. He’s not just going to give in because his dipshit brother tells him to. Not without a fight.

Michael twirls the blade in his hand. It catches the light. A reminder that he’s armed, and Lucifer is not.

His chest aches. He’s weak as it is.

He knows that he doesn’t stand a chance against Michael, but he can’t just give up.

“We can fight if we must, but you and I both know how messy that can get. It’d be a shame if your precious human were to get caught in the crossfire….”

A threat if he’d ever heard one. His breath catches in his throat.

Michael pauses, contemplating for a second before adding calmly, “I’ll ask you one more time. Come peacefully and I give you my word that your human will be left alone.”

“How can I trust _your_ word?” He spits. “You’re a snake. A liar. You deceitful—”

“You’re upset. I’ll excuse the name calling. But know this, this is my final offer. Come with me and your human will be left alone. Make this difficult and I assure you, I can make her life _difficult_ as well. The result will always be the same. One way or another you’re going back to Hell and you’re staying there. Don’t make it more difficult than it has to be.”

“I….”

He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t let Michael hurt Chloe, and he can’t protect her himself.

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he weighs up his options.

Only he finds he doesn’t have any options.

Every scenario ends with him losing.

His heart aches.

A single word on his mind.

_Chloe._

After everything.

It can’t end like this.

But maybe it has to if he wants to keep Chloe safe….

“If I come with you now Chloe will be left alone to live out her life, yes?”

Michael nods. “I give you my word.”

“Fine. Take me back to Hell.”

His brother, nods again, agreeing. “You’ve made the right choice. Come on,” he says, reaching a hand out to guide him towards the balcony.

Lucifer steps backwards, away from his brother’s grasp. “Wait, just….” Michael watches him with a raised eyebrow as he goes to the bar and retrieves a napkin, striding over to the desk at the far side of the room to fetch a pen.

He hesitates with the pen in his hand. What can he write? He needs to say something… he can’t just leave Chloe with nothing.

Michael sighs heftily behind him. “Enough of this dilly dallying. Let’s go.” Michael grabs his arm and he feels panic bubble inside him.

“ _Wait!”_ He meets his brother’s eyes, pleading with him. “Please. Just give me a minute.”

His arm is released as Michael nods. “Make it quick he murmurs, I haven’t got all day.”

Taking a breath, he writes the only words that he knows to be true.

 

_Chloe, I love you and I’m sorry. L._

He places it on the piano, where he knows she will see it when she inevitably comes looking for him.

Turning he says one last goodbye. To the city. To Lux. _To Chloe_.

And he lets himself be taken.

 

~

Epilogue

~

 

She messages him but he doesn’t respond.

Calls him but he doesn’t answer.

Worry settles in her stomach. She tries desperately to shake it off.

He’s fine. She’d seen him just this morning. He’s probably just busy, or asleep knowing him. He is still recovering after all. They hadn’t really figured out why he seemed to be healing slower than usual or why he’d been out for so long.

Some mysteries will never be answered she supposes.

After work, she swings by Lux to pick him up, pulling into the space beside the Corvette with a smile on her face.

She rides the elevator up, impatiently tapping her fingers together. Butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

It’s stupid, but she just can’t wait to see him.

Only she doesn’t.

When she gets to the penthouse, she finds it empty.

Her heart sinks when she spots the napkin on top of the piano. Her eyes linger on the words as her heart all but shatters in her chest.

_“Chloe, I love you and I’m sorry. L.”_

She hopes that it doesn’t mean what she thinks it does.

She hopes that he’ll come back.

Days turn into weeks that turn into months and she still hopes.

But he never comes back.

 

~

 

Michael leads him through the gates of Hell.

He hates it. Hates this place, but it’s necessary.

Necessary to keep Chloe safe.

So, he endures, ignoring the ache where his heart used to be.

He follows his brother through the twisting corridors of Hell until they come to a seemingly random stop.

“What’s this?” He raises an eyebrow as Michael gestures to one of the steel doors.

“This,” he smirks, “is your new home, Samael.”

“ _What?”_ His mind races. “But you said—”

Michael tuts, shaking his head. “That was our old deal. The one you broke. The only terms of our deal which I agreed to were not to harm you human, so you’ll do as I say, or you will face the consequences.” He pauses, looking thoughtful for a moment, “Or should I say _she_ will face the consequences.”

Rage boils in his veins. He clenches his jaw as Michael swings the door open, revealing the dark, cold depths within.

“Off you pop.” Michael gives him a small shove, ushering him inside.

Into his own personal Hell.

He closes his eyes and takes a breath.

For Chloe, he thinks before stepping inside.

The door slams behind him, plunging him into darkness.

 

~

 

It starts with him plunging a blade into Cain’s chest.

There are the good moments in between. A day at the beach. A dinner shared under the stars. A day at Disneyland.

But it always ends the same. With him disappointing the only being who has ever accepted him for who he really is. The only person who ever truly loved him.

It happens over and over again, and each time his heart breaks a little bit more until there is nothing left.

He tells himself it’s for the best. That she’s probably moved on by now. Probably happy without him.

But deep down he knows. He knows that he let her down.

_Hurt her._

And for that he will never forgive himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel the need to shout, scream or just cry at me, feel free to take to the comments section. I can take it.
> 
> * there will be a sequel *

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Follow me on Twitter if you fancy having a chat about Lucifer, Deckerstar or anything really [@kaykat666](https://twitter.com/kaykat666). Thanks for reading!


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